


Forever The Name On My Lips

by tricia_16



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Age Difference, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Infertility, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lifting Kink, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No mpreg, Older Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Omega Dean Winchester, Phone Sex, Physical Abuse, Sassy Castiel, Twink Dean Winchester, Virgin Castiel, Virgin Dean Winchester, past and present fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 132,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricia_16/pseuds/tricia_16
Summary: Very few people are lucky enough to meet the love of their life at 16 years old, but that’s exactly what happens to Dean when he first meets 22-year-old Castiel. Falling in love is as easy as breathing, but moving on from the one person you're supposed to be with is not.Fast forward through 12 years of internet searches, failed relationships, and misery, and neither of them ever would have guessed what would ultimately bring them back together. But a lot can change in 12 years. Broken hearts are hard to mend, biology refuses be ignored, and it turns out second chances are almost as hard to take as they are to give...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you didn't read the summary, the "past" version of this story deals with Dean meeting Castiel for the first time when Dean is 16 and Castiel is 22. Dean's weeks away from his 17th birthday though, and nothing happens between them until then. No hard feelings if the underage tag scares you off :)
> 
> With that said, welcome to my first ever full-length ABO story! I'm paired up with a new beta reading team this time, so please go give all of your love to [ Brianna](https://twitter.com/bookbag09) and [Eliza](https://twitter.com/The_Cake_Wench) who I am absolutely _thrilled_ to be working with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

“Almost there, almost there, almost there,” Castiel chants to himself under his breath. He can barely even hear himself think over the roar of the ancient heating system in his car, the non-stop _whump, whump, whump_ of the windshield wipers struggling to clear the snow off of the frozen glass, and the whistling of the wind as he drives down the highway.

He shut off the radio a few minutes ago, too irritated to listen to the no-travel advisory _again_ when he’s already cursing his asshole of a boss who made him work his entire shift in the middle of the worst snowstorm of the year. He hadn’t had a single file to work on since noon, but his boss had called every hour to make sure he was still there. He wasn’t above taking the five hours easy pay for reading on his Kindle app, but even that hadn’t lasted the whole day because his battery died.

Bringing his focus back to the way his headlights are barely cutting through the fast falling flakes and darkness surrounding him, he carefully steers his car around the upcoming bend in the road. The dark has always made him feel a little down, and though he doesn’t have a particularly bad life, he isn’t anywhere close to living the life he always hoped he would have when he was thirty-five years old. He’s alone for one thing, stuck in an office at least five days a week at a job he doesn’t like, only finding joy within the pages of a book or in memories he should know better than to dwell on. He has his brother, yes, but other than that, he has no friends to speak of, no mate, no pups, nothing. He’s just existing, one bleak day after the next bringing the same thing as the one before. The only proof of time passing at all is the increasingly frequent strands of grey he finds in his hair and his spirit wilting along with them.

And to think once upon a time he thought he was the luckiest alpha on the planet. How times change.

He’s doing half the speed limit with his hazard lights blinking to make it easier for other cars to see him through the snow, and even still, when he presses on the brakes and eases into the next turn, he must hit ice. The first thing he notices is that he’s turning the wheel but the car isn’t changing directions. Needing to slow down if he isn’t going to make the turn, he taps the brakes again, but they aren’t doing anything at all. Impossibly, it seems like he speeds up instead. He can smell the spike of fear begin to coil through his scent, the rancid, sharp scent of rotting fruit lying out in the sun too long, and the next thing he knows, his car is sliding sideways across the four-lane split highway. He jerks against the seat belt and all he can see is darkness as his car hits a snowbank with a sickening crunch.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but things slowly come back to him in pieces. The burning pain in his shoulder. A dull throb in his hip. Something wet streaming from his forehead and into his eyes. A cold surface beneath his cheek. The wipers making a terrible grating sound where they’re stuck under all the snow.

When he opens his eyes, his head is swimming. The inside of the car is... foggy. Smoky? Is there a fire? No, he doesn’t smell anything burning. He knows the wetness from his face is blood now; he can both smell and taste it. The seat belt is cutting into his shoulder and along his hip, and his face is resting on the steering wheel. He must have smacked his head on it because his head feels like it weighs more than the rest of his body combined. The windshield is covered completely and he feels a sharp jab of fear before he realizes there’s no way he’s actually buried underground the way it looks, it’s probably just snow. He unhooks his seat belt, hissing as the sharp sting of his shoulder protests painfully. He tries to push his door open but it doesn’t budge and the entire car makes an ominous creaking sound.

He takes several deep breaths, trying to think straight and calm his mounting panic. He needs a plan.

His cell phone died hours ago, so he can’t call Gabriel for help or for a tow truck to pull him out. That means he’s going to have to stay in the car, because there’s no way he’s going to make it home through the storm if he tries to walk. There’s a good chance his tail pipe is buried in the snow, which means he has to turn the car off. But it’s twenty below and he knows he’ll freeze without the heat on after long.

Maybe somebody else is stupid enough to be out in this weather and will see that he’s crashed, he thinks. He turns the car off but leaves the lights on, hoping his hazard lights might make him easier to see. He’s already in his winter jacket and winter boots, but he has a hat and gloves in the back seat, so he reaches for them.

Wondering if maybe the back of the car isn’t stuck in snow the same way as the front, he maneuvers his way back there and tries to open the door. It budges, so he turns to put his uninjured shoulder to it and pushes hard. Alpha strength is good for something after all, he thinks with a sardonic huff of laughter. A mountain of snow falls down, partially on top of him and partially inside of the car, but he’s got the door open!

He pulls on his hat and gloves before he steps outside, but the first gust of wind is still disabling. The wind and snow cuts through his khakis and needles the exposed skin of his face instantly, prompting him to hide his face in his jacket as he moves around to the back of the car to make sure the tailpipe isn’t covered by snow. His head is really pounding, his vision is still blurry, and his shoulder stings every time he moves it. Even still, he knows he stands no chance of surviving out here without the heat on in the car, so he grits his teeth and uses his hands to dig a space around the car until the tailpipe is free from snow.

With his head aching so badly he can barely keep his eyes open, he gets back inside the car and starts it again so the heat can run. He was outside less than ten minutes and he feels like he’s frozen to the core. Thankfully he has almost a full tank of gas, so he should be able to wait it out until the storm stops because there’s absolutely no way he can walk anywhere in his condition. He’s nowhere close to comfortable with how cold he is and with his pants wet from the snow, but he knows they’ll dry eventually in the warmth of the car. His shoulder is really quite sore now that he’s sitting again and his vision still isn’t entirely clear, but there’s nothing he can do about that now, so he tries to think about anything _but_ the pain and the negligible chances of being rescued.

Considering he can barely keep his eyes open all of the sudden, he decides a nap sounds like a decent way to pass the time as any, so he makes himself as comfortable as he can and waits. He falls asleep more quickly than he would have guessed based on how badly everything hurts, but that’s thanks to visions of green eyes, freckles, and the memory of being wrapped up in the scent of rich coffee sweetened with brown sugar and cinnamon.

Snow tires were a damn good choice, Dean thinks to himself as he inches his 1967 Chevrolet Impala down the snowy highway. He’d been against them at first, thinking that his Baby was a big enough (beautiful) boat that he wouldn’t need them, but he’s really frigging glad he went for them before he started home. It’s not that he’s never seen a storm like this, because it’s Canada for god’s sake, but it’s been a while and he must have forgotten how bad they could be.

His brother Sam had told him there was a warning telling people to stay off the roads, but he was only a few hours out at that point and he figured he could make it through. He’s still going to, and even though he’s sure as hell not going to tell Sammy, it’s a lot worse than he thought it would be. He knows he’s about a half hour away from town driving at full speed, so he figures that puts him at an hour or so in this weather, but then he’ll be home (or the only place that’s ever felt like home anyway) for the first time in twelve years.

He’s feeling pretty good about it, considering what dragged him out of the country when he was seventeen is now dead and gone, and he’s got a small smile curving his lips as the sounds of Led Zeppelin drifting through the speakers fills his car.

Recognizing that he feels almost happy should have been warning enough that his world was about to get turned upside down, because he hasn’t been happy in so long he barely even remembers how it feels. Of course, that’s when his headlights land on the back end of a shitty god-awful car sticking out of the snowbank with its hazard lights on. He slows down until his car is crawling towards it, pumping his breaks expertly when he starts to slide a little bit, and pulls over onto the shoulder behind the other one. He tugs on his hat and mitts, leaves the Impala running so it doesn’t freeze solid, and makes his way towards the car.

He takes a peek inside the back window and sees a man bundled up with a dark thatch of hair sticking out from underneath a hat. His face is in shadows but he looks like he’s sleeping, and Dean hesitates for a second or two before he dismisses the voice in his head that tells him to be careful in case this is an alpha who tries to take advantage of him. Since he knows by now that he can handle himself if he needs to, he tries to figure out the best way to wake the guy without giving him a heart attack instead. The only thing that comes to him is knocking on the window, so he goes ahead and does that as gently as he can. The guy’s still asleep, but his head turns to the side and Dean can see blood and a bruise spreading down one side of his face. Figuring the man must be injured and actually passed out rather than asleep, he pulls the door open and is hit with a scent he hasn’t smelled in a dozen years, but one that’s so familiar it almost brings him to his knees.

“Cas?” Dean chokes out, though he doesn’t really need to ask. He’d know his signature dark chocolate/blueberry combo scent anywhere. Of all the ways he had imagined seeing him again, and there were _a lot_ of times he dreamed about it, he can honestly say finding him stuck in a snowbank never even occurred to him. “Cas, are you okay?”

Castiel’s eyelids flutter open and Dean gets his first glimpse of the blue eyes that have haunted his dreams (and more waking moments than he can cares to admit) looking up at him. Cas’s expression goes from confusion, to shock, to a smile so big Dean can see crows feet spread beside his eyes and his nose crinkling exactly the same way it used to. His heart fills so fast it knocks the breath right out of him, and before he can say anything, Cas starts laughing. It’s startling, not only because nothing about this is funny, but because the laugh is all wrong. It’s weak and breathy when Dean _knows_ that Cas’s laugh is low and booming except for when he laughs so hard he can’t catch his breath, and this isn’t that.

“Cas?” Dean asks again, more concerned now. “Are you okay, man?”

“Of course,” Cas wheezes out, still laughing. “This is perfect,” he adds, his words dripping with insincerity. “The perfect ending to an all around perfect day. I’m hallucinating.”

Dean frowns. “You’re not hallucinating. Are you hurt?”

“Worse than I thought I was, apparently,” Cas laughs again, wincing as he pulls himself up to a sitting position. “The fucking fog,” Cas curses, one hand rubbing at his eyes while the other one crosses his body to clutch at his shoulder. “I can’t see through the fog.”

Now that he knows there’s something really wrong here, Dean feels fear spreading through him, chilling him to the bone in a completely different way than the wind currently eating through his jeans. “Did you hit your head, Cas?”

Cas nods, then groans. “Ouch.” He lifts his gaze to Dean, and Dean can feel his breath catch in his throat the moment they make eye contact. “Wow,” Cas sighs dreamily. “I even dreamed you older this time.”

The hand that was on his shoulder reaches out to cup Dean’s face, and so help him, he’s weak enough to let Cas pull off his glove to trace his fingers delicately from his ear to his chin before he cups his face and uses his thumb to sweep across his cheekbone. Dean’s eyelids drift closed when he realizes he just found everything he’s been missing since he left this place 12 years ago in this one simple touch.

“All grown up and you’re still the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen,” Cas says softly, causing his eyes to open again. Whispered memories of, _“You’re so beautiful, omega, inside and out. Nothing has ever shone so bright as you,”_ drift through his mind, causing something that feels a lot like hope to rise up inside of him. But he shakes his head, pushing it away, knowing that now isn’t the time to linger on those kinds of thoughts.

“I think you might have a concussion.”

Castiel's hand on his face moves back to prod at where his forehead is clotted with blood. “I did hit my head on the steering wheel. It was bleeding.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I could dig you out, but I don’t think you should drive if you can’t see right.”

“I think you should let me kiss you,” Cas responds. Hearing Cas say that for the first time in a decade with his low, rough voice has arousal slamming into him almost violently, and he hopes the way his scent has changed is drowned out by his fear for Cas and the snowstorm still swirling around him.

Pushing all of that aside, he jokes, “Now I know your brains are scrambled. I think I’m gonna have to drive you home.”

Cas frowns and shakes his head. “No. This isn’t right. The Dean in my dreams always kisses me when I want him to. What’s the matter with you? I want to wake up.”

Cas has dreamed about him? About them kissing? A whimper is torn from his throat before he can swallow it down, and he can feel his slick glands starting to get damp just from the idea of Cas still wanting to kiss him.

“What’s wrong, omega?” Castiel asks, scooching closer to him now.

“C-Cas,” Dean says brokenly.

The pain of hearing Cas saying these things when he knows Cas thinks he’s dreaming is so incredibly sharp he can‘t even talk. Cas is calling him _omega_ and Cas’s scent is quickly filling his head with thoughts he doesn’t need right now. As his eyelids slip closed to selfishly appreciate his potent blueberry scent better, flashes of memories rise to the surface: the first time he caught Cas’s scent at the outdoor rink, their first kiss beneath the paper lanterns, when they lost their virginity together, going through his heat with another person by his side for the first time, slow dancing with his head on Castiel’s shoulder, falling asleep wrapped in his scent and his arms, the moment he realized he’d never see him again...

That’s enough to snap him out of it and he straightens up to poke his head back out of the car so he can take in a big breath and cleanse Cas’s scent from his nostrils. All that stuff - him and Cas - was a long time ago. He was just a kid for Christ sake, and when Cas gets his head screwed back on straight he’s going to realize that Dean’s real and he’s damn sure Cas is going to have a much different reaction to him then. There’s no use getting his hopes up over the possibility that Cas might want him back when he knows they’ll be crushed all over again by this time tomorrow. He needs to put everything else aside and concentrate on how Cas is hurt and stranded on the highway in the middle of a snow storm.

With his resolve now strengthened, he ducks his head back into the car and takes care to breathe through his mouth so he isn’t distracted by his scent again. Cas is still looking up at him with unfocused blue eyes and blood on his face. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“No!” The sheer amount of fear that Cas is able to project with that one word has Dean freezing in his tracks. “I’m not going to a hospital.”

Dean’s _never_ heard Castiel’s voice so hard and his inner omega is urging him to submit, and for once, his brain is in complete agreement. Anything that makes Cas smell like rotting fruit that fast isn’t something he’s willing to subject him to if he can help it.

“Okay. No hospital,” he promises. “Grab your keys and I’ll give you a ride home before we’re both snowed in here, alright?”

“Yes, alright,” Cas agrees. He gets the keys out of the ignition, scoots until his legs are on the ground and Dean reaches out to give him a hand. He pulls him up, wraps an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady and guides him through the falling snow and to his car.

“You still have the Impala,” Cas says, that all-wrong-sounding laugh spilling from him again. “You brought your car but not me.”

He feels the words - _those words -_ combined with Castiel’s laughter like a knife straight through the heart. Cas has to know Dean never would have left him in a million years if he had a choice. Cas was _everything_ to him and he’s spent his entire goddamn life trying to find something to fill the hole that was left in him after he had to leave.

He knows now isn’t the time to hash that out though, so even though his eyes are stinging from more than just the cold, he blinks it away the best he can and leads Cas to the passenger side of the car. He helps him inside and then hurries around to his side and gets in behind the wheel, shaking the snow off of his shoulders.

Cas is slumped against the door with his head against the window, looking like he might pass out any minute now. “Hey,” Dean barks, his voice harder than usual to try to get Castiel’s attention. “You’re gonna stay awake for me, right? I don’t know where I’m taking you.” Even so, he eases the car off of the shoulder and heads towards town.

“I live in Oak Haven now,” Cas says, sounding out of it again.

Dean’s sure Cas has no idea his heart just leapt into his throat. Cas probably doesn’t even remember the late night conversations they used to have about where they’d live when they were mated and ready to start a family. Even if Cas does remember him saying he wanted to live on the lake in Oak Haven, that doesn’t mean he did it because of him. He probably did it to spite him if anything. It doesn’t have to mean what he’s stupidly hoping it means.

Oak Haven is about twenty minutes closer to where he was heading, and the outskirts of the city have the biggest houses with the most land, which is why he wanted to live out there some day. Cas must love it out there in the summer. He wonders if he’s got a space cleared out on the lake for a skating rink. He wonders if he still skates at all, if he thinks about him when he does.

“On Crystal Lake Road. Number seven.”

Even though his heart is racing and he’s sure his scent is giving him away, Dean lets out a low whistle in response. “Always knew you were gonna make it big,” Dean says proudly, even knowing he had nothing to do with it.

“I didn’t,” Cas says, not a single trace of amusement in his voice. “Gabriel bought me that house.”

Dean doesn’t really know what to do with that. He decides to dodge the _I didn’t_ comment to try to make this already loaded conversation a little bit easier. “Yeah? How’s he doing?”

“He’s the executive producer for a pornography company in Las Vegas,” Cas replies, which makes Dean snort with laughter. Of course he is. “He’s filthy rich and surrounded by porn stars. He thinks he’s living the dream.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad,” Dean says lightly. “Good for him.”

“What are you doing here, Dean?” Cas asks, suddenly sounding serious.

“Thought it was ‘cause you were hallucinating,” Dean jokes. “Or have you decided I’m real now?”

“I don’t think I could dream up the subtle changes in your scent. Even my subconscious wouldn’t be cruel enough to torture me with that.”

Dean frowns, not sure what he means. Dean has slept and showered, cried and laughed, hell, they’ve even made love with Cas’s nose buried in his scent gland, and now he thinks it’s torture? Why? “What, I smell like garbage to you now or somethin’?”

“No. You still smell like gourmet coffee,” Cas says dreamily, sounding like he’s about to fall asleep any second. Sure enough, Dean glances over and sees his eyes are closed, but he has a soft smile on his face that melts him in a way only he ever could. He’s missed him so much. Every single day for the last twelve years. “Coffee and brown sugar and cinnamon,” Cas says slowly, quietly. “You smell like home.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispers brokenly, feeling a new crack in his already obliterated heart. But as he sneaks another glance at Cas he can see he’s about to fall asleep. He clears his throat and says, “Hey, you gotta stay awake, okay?”

“Okay, Dean,” Cas says quietly, his eyelids dragging open for a split second before they drift back down. “Don’t leave,” he breathes.

Dean swallows hard and nods. “Okay, Cas.”

There’s not a damn thing that could drag him away a second time.

Castiel wakes up to a voice he’s heard in his dreams off and on for a dozen years, but lower, more mature sounding than he remembers it.

“Cas, come on, man. I don’t wanna take you to the hospital, but if -”

“I’m awake,” he says roughly, struggling to blink his eyes open. His head is absolutely killing him, but as his vision focuses all he can see is his house covered in a thick sheet of white.

“Scared the hell out of me,” he hears next, and he jumps when he sees Dean is actually sitting next to him. In the Impala.

He really thought he was hallucinating earlier, but no, the familiar scent of Dean’s distress is filling the vehicle. The instinct to soothe him means the first thing out of Castiel’s mouth is, “I’m fine.”

“I was shaking you for at least a whole minute,” Dean argues.

“And clearly your persistence has paid off because I’m awake now,” Castiel tells him. He pushes down everything else currently cluttering his mind and says, “Thank you for driving me home.”

“Wasn’t just gonna leave you there.”

“Not as if it would be the first time,” Castiel says bitterly before he can think better of it.

“Cas -” Dean begins, but Castiel just raises his hand.

“I’m sorry. That was a long time ago, and the fact remains that you did save me tonight, so thank you.”

Dean looks at him for what feels like a really long time (but is probably only seconds) before he nods curtly. “Okay. You’re welcome. Let’s get you inside, huh?”

“I’m sure I can make it to the door on my own.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who took your weight for the walk from your car to mine, so,” Dean says, opening his car door and stepping out into the wintry night without giving him time to argue further. Apparently growing up hasn’t made Dean any less stubborn.

His door is wrenched open next, and he sighs before he takes Dean’s offered hand (for stability, nothing else) and gets to his feet. He’s glad he didn’t refuse, because he really is unsteady, and between the way his head feels like it’s vibrating on his neck and the snow that’s currently halfway to his knees, it’s not an easy walk up his driveway.

He grunts at the cold when he has to take off his glove to pull his keys out, but once the front door is opened, they both walk through it and he closes it quickly behind them before all the snow and cold comes inside with them.

“Shit,” Dean curses, and Castiel looks over just in time to see Dean try to cover his nose.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m - I’m fine. It just...” He pulls air in through his mouth and drops his hand. “It smells like you in here. Like, a lot.” Castiel just blinks at him, not fully understanding why he would’ve expected anything else from his home. Dean rolls his eyes and says, “Imagine walking into my house after not getting a whiff for twelve years.”

Castiel nods slowly as understanding dawns. “I’m sorry. I’d offer to open a window, but.” He finishes that sentence off with a shrug that has Dean chuckling a little bit.

“It’s not bad, you’re still the best damn thing I’ve ever smelled. It’s just - memories and everything, you know?”

“I do,” Castiel says carefully, pulling off his hat and tossing it in the closet. “You might as well come in.”

Dean snorts shallowly. “Good to know we’re skipping right past the fake pleasantries.”

Castiel pins him with an annoyed look. “I just crashed my car, I’ve very likely got a concussion, and I’ve just been rescued by an omega who was milking my fourth orgasm out of me the last time I saw him. Excuse me for being a little out of sorts.”

Dean pulls off his leather jacket and hangs it in the closet. “Your memory’s still shit. Pretty sure I was up to six before you passed out.”

“In your dreams,” Castiel tosses back.

“You ain’t wrong about that,” Dean says, shooting him a cocky grin as he turns back around that has heat racing through him. “Let’s get you cleaned up a little. You’ve still got blood all down the side of your face.”

“Follow me,” Castiel says shortly, leading the way to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

Dean stops dead in his tracks at the door. When Castiel arches a brow at him over his shoulder Dean shakes his head. “I can’t go in there. It smells like sex.”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t been a monk for the last twelve years.”

Castiel can see the way Dean’s jaw clenches. “I didn’t say it smelled like another omega.”

He bites down the, “That would be impossible,” that comes to mind, because Dean doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing he’s never been able to stomach the scent of another omega turned on. And he’d tried _a lot._ “I’ll just get the supplies and meet you back in the living room then.”

Dean hesitates, but asks, “You sure you’re okay to walk on your own?”

“You’ll be the second one to know if I fall,” Castiel says dryly as he walks into his bathroom.

Truthfully, the few minutes without Dean close enough to smell is doing himself some good, too. He hasn’t seen him in more than ten years but just having him close and smelling him in the air around him is confusing. His inner alpha is basically chasing its tail with excitement at having his omega near again, but Castiel himself is not anywhere close to forgiving Dean for leaving him without a word or explanation so long ago. It may have been years ago, but some wounds never close, and the pain of being torn away from who he knows was supposed to be his mate was almost unbearable.

He has never understood how mated pairs who lose the other to death survive, because Castiel almost didn’t and he and Dean didn’t even exchange bites. In his worst moments, he wishes they had. He wishes he had the mating mark so that others would look at him and understand why he’s had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep for more than a decade, why he looks so much older than his 34 years, and why he isn’t willing to be set up on a blind date with a willing omega.

He’s never wanted just any omega, he only ever wanted Dean.

Who’s currently in his living room waiting for him.

He tears himself away from his thoughts, grabs a face cloth, some disinfecting wipes, gauze, and a bandage, and cradles it all to his chest to hobble out to the living room. His hip is stinging something fierce, causing him to limp a little, and his shoulder still feels wretched, too. He realizes a few minutes too late that he should have grabbed painkillers while he was in the bathroom, but there’s no way he’s dragging himself back in there just for that, so he goes without for now.

When he sits next to Dean on the couch, leaving ample space between them where he dumps the supplies, he catches the small smile on Dean’s face. “What’s so amusing?”

“Just lovin’ the hat head,” Dean says, flicking his eyes up to his hair.

“As long as you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean whines. “Aren’t you at least a little bit happy to see me again?”

Castiel bites back the retort he really wants to make - asking him why should he be happy to see him - in favor of keeping the peace. He’s already resigned to the fact that he shouldn’t be left alone tonight after an injury to the head, and there’s no way Dean (or anyone) should be driving. So they’re going to have to spend the night in the same house, which means he should at least be civil.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive, and based on your appearance and scent, healthy. Yes,” Castiel answers.

“Tone it down a little, you’re givin’ me butterflies over here,” Dean quips.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I was under the impression you were going to help me, not flirt with me.”

“Old habits die hard,” Dean says, smiling again. Castiel wonders if Dean really thinks the cocky smile hides the uncertainty in his eyes or the way his knee is jiggling nervously. “I’ll go get this wet and start on your face.”

He hates the way his eyes travel up Dean’s form as he gets up, but with Dean’s back turned to him, there’s no reason not to take in the way his body’s changed. God, the last time he saw Dean he was only 17. Now he must be almost 30, and his body has definitely transformed from a teenager to a man. He was absolutely beautiful as a fresh faced omega at 17, but now he’s breathtakingly handsome in a rugged way that’s almost impossible to find at all, let alone in an omega.

His bow legs are still far more attractive than they have any right to be, and the well-worn jeans he’s wearing are fit snugly enough to them that it’s impossible not to notice. He has a small waist and curvy hips like he always has, but dear god, the way his torso widens as it gets to his shoulders is brand-new and absolutely sinful. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched nicely across the brawn of his shoulders and hugs the tanned swell of his biceps, and Castiel hates the way he looks completely different than he used to and yet he’s still just as attracted to him now as he was back then.

“Eyes up here, alpha,” Dean smirks, and Castiel jolts as he realizes Dean’s managed to wet the cloth and come back into the room to stand directly in front of him while Castiel has been checking him out the whole time.

“Old habits die hard,” Castiel says, and Dean’s smile spreads into something more genuine that sends warmth flooding through him. “Alright, stay still, ‘cause I know from experience this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Dean kneels between his legs and it makes his head spin in an entirely different way than it has been so far tonight. Then Dean leans in nice and close and his sweet scent coils through the air and into Castiel’s nose. He waffles between wanting to close his eyes so he doesn’t have to look into Dean’s green eyes or see how the freckles he loved so much so long ago are spread out across his cheeks now, and knowing that if he does close his eyes, he’ll never be able to stop seeing a montage of all the times he’s had Dean on his knees in front of him before.

One of Dean’s hands cups his cheek to keep his head steady, and when his green eyes flick to Castiel’s, they catch with only inches between them and he’s lost. Everything comes back too fast to stop it. He _loved him._ Loved him like he’ll never love another, and now Dean’s here, smelling and looking as perfect as he ever did, and as his other hand begins dabbing at the blood on Castiel’s forehead, the first tear falls.

“Shit, sorry,” Dean says. “Told ya it was going to hurt.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, but he tries desperately to think about anything other than how badly he’s missed Dean, and how foolish he is to still be in love with him after all this time. He doesn’t even know Dean now. Doesn’t know a thing about him, about his job, where he lives, where the hell he’s been for the last twelve years or _why_ he left in the first place, but god, how he loves him.

“Cas,” Dean says quietly. “You okay?”

“No,” Castiel answers, any and all fight he had in him before now completely gone. “I haven’t been okay since you left me.”

Burnt coffee hits his nostrils almost as rapidly as Dean’s eyes fill. “I know,” he whispers hoarsely. “Me neither. We can talk, okay? I can explain what happened and you can explain what happened on your end. I want that, Cas, want it like you wouldn’t believe. But first I gotta take care of this blood on your face and get you some pain killers. Just one thing at a time. I don’t wanna get you all worked up if you’ve got a concussion.”

Castiel swallows hard, the tears still rolling down his face, but he can’t find his voice. He doesn’t nod either, since Dean’s still holding his head, but Dean must see the permission he grants in his eyes because Dean offers a tight smile before he starts wiping at his head.

As Dean bandages him up, Castiel notices his fingers are calloused and wonders what he’s been doing to get them that way. He hopes he gets a chance to ask him. He soaks up every little touch, every time Dean’s skin brushes his, the familiar but intoxicating way Dean fits between his spread legs, and as his scent slowly begins to even out, he treasures every breath like it will be his last.

Finally, with his bandage put securely into place by Dean’s steady fingers, Dean straightens up with a wince. “Getting too old to be on my knees that long,” Dean says. “How’s that feel?”

“Better.”

“You hurt anywhere else?” he asks.

Castiel’s eyes dart away as he responds, “I’m fine.”

Dean tuts. “You’re still a shit liar.”

“My shoulder and my hip are sore from the seat belt, but they’re fine,” he relents.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d get a chance to get your clothes off again so fast, but let’s take a look,” Dean says, tugging him by the hand to his feet and wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “Looks like you’re gettin’ me in your room after all, and you’re gonna strip and let me check you out.”

“There’s no way that’s happening,” Castiel disagrees, but he allows himself to be led towards the bedroom by Dean’s hand low on his back.

Once they cross the threshold, Dean deposits him on the bed. “Painkillers?”

“In the cupboard behind the sink.”

“You better have that shirt off when I come back.”

“Still so mouthy,” Castiel murmurs under his breath, but he starts pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt anyway.

Dean’s steps falter when he comes back into the room with a glass of water and his hand closed around the pills, but Castiel doesn’t mention it. He takes the offered painkillers with the water and almost chokes on them when he feels Dean’s fingers on the laceration on his bare shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s gonna need to be cleaned and bandaged too. Be right back.”

His shoulder, and eventually his hip, get the same treatment his head did: washed free of blood, cleaned with disinfectant, and bandaged up. By the time Dean declares that’s as good as it gets, Castiel is having a hard time keeping his eyes open, the soothing scent of his omega lulling him into a sense of peace even though he’s still in quite a bit of pain.

“You got something to sleep in?” Dean asks, gesturing to his dresser.

“I sleep in my boxers.”

“Not tonight you don’t,” Dean says, his cheeks heating up to a beautiful pink Castiel would kiss if he could.

“Lounge pants in the second drawer down. You can use a pair too, if you want.”

“Knew I was never gonna leave you alone after you went and bashed your head, huh?” Dean asks with a smirk, walking over to his dresser and pulling the drawer open.

“More like I wasn’t willing to let you, or anyone, drive again with the roads in this condition.”

Dean snorts. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, al- Cas.”

He doesn’t mention that slip either, or the way Dean’s head is bowed almost submissively when he passes him his lounge pants. “I’ll go set up camp on the couch, but I’m gonna set an alarm to come in and check to make sure you’re still breathing every few hours. Do you know if I’m supposed to wake you up or...?”

“I have no idea, but I wouldn’t advise waking me up if you don’t want me to bite your head off.”

Dean chuckles fondly. “Yeah, sounds about right. You think you can stand up and get changed okay?”

“I think so.”

“I’m gonna hang outside the door for a minute just in case, okay? Let me know when you’re all copacetic.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says sincerely.

He quirks a smile before he heads out of the room. “You bet.”

Castiel changes without issue, and goes into the bathroom to empty his bladder and brush his teeth. He’s sure it’s barely after nine but he is down to the bone tired, and so he climbs into bed and pulls the covers up. “I survived,” he says to Dean, who he knows is still listening behind the door.

Dean opens it up again and Castiel can’t help but notice the way his hips fill out his lounge pants in a distracting way his own certainly don’t. “Woulda looked pretty terrible for me if you died on my watch,” Dean says, surprising a laugh out of him. “You need anything else?”

“No. Do you? I’m sorry I don’t have an extra tooth brush to offer you. I’ve never had a need to keep a second one.”

He gets another warm smile from Dean that has him reaching out for his hand without thinking about it. Dean takes a step closer to the bed and drops the hand he took in his only to extend his arm tentatively to brush his fingers through Castiel’s hair.

“Will you stay in here with me?” Castiel whispers before he can think better of it. He’s so tired - has been so tired for so long - and he knows it makes him weak, but the idea of sleeping next to his omega again even if it’s only for a night is too tempting not to ask for.

“I really thought you weren’t gonna ask,” Dean says quietly, his shoulders sagging with relief. “I was ready to sleep with my nose pressed to the crack of the door.”

Castiel smiles as he watches Dean flip off the light and then crawl into bed beside him, and without another word, Dean turns onto his side and scoots backwards, making himself the small spoon as he always did. Castiel doesn’t hesitate a single moment before he wraps his arm around his waist, but he does resist the urge to drop his nose to his neck and scent Dean the way his alpha is begging him to.

Sleeping with Dean in his arms is one thing, but putting a claim on him again when he has no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow is another entirely, and as much as he’d like to, he can’t put himself through even the possibility of losing him again.

The last thing he’s aware of before he falls into sleep entirely is the way Dean’s hand covers his and brings it up to rest on his chest, and the gourmet coffee scent of a happy omega lulling him to sleep for the first time in twelve years.


	2. Chapter 2

**_2007_ **

“Hey,” Dean calls after his little brother as he opens the door and tries to leave the house without wearing a hat. “I know your hair’s kinda your thing, but your whole head’s gonna look weird if your ears freeze off.”

Sam tries to do the teenage angst thing and look miserable, but Dean doesn’t miss the way his lips tug up at the sides as the hat Dean throws at him hits him in the chest. “Thanks,” Sam says, pulling it onto his head.

They walk the few blocks to the outdoor rink with their skates in duffel bags and their hockey sticks resting over their shoulders. It’s only a few degrees below freezing tonight, which is how Sammy talked him into coming with him in the first place. Well, that, and because it’s after seven on a Thursday night, which means most of the little kids will be home and in bed. This way, they should be able to get a decent game of shinny going without any overprotective omega moms snarling at them.

When they get to the rink, there’s only a few more guys on the ice, so they take a seat on the bench by the entrance and lace up their skates. Even though it’s not as cold as it has been, his fingers are still stiff with it by the time his skates are tied and the inside of his gloves feel like heaven once he slips them on.

“Your buddy here?” Dean asks Sam as he waits for him to finish up.

“Yeah, he’s the short one with the big mouth,” Sam answers, making Dean huff with laughter.

He’s heard Sam talk about his friend Gabriel enough to know that kid has gotta be the only reason Sam isn’t the school’s biggest nerd. Somehow, Gabriel has managed to bring out a side of Sam Dean had previously only ever seen at home. From what Sam’s said, Gabriel’s 13, the class clown, and Sammy, well, he fits into the teacher’s pet role more than anything else. But this Gabriel kid has gotten Sam into hockey, and for the first time in their lives, Sam actually has friends who don’t exist only within the pages of a book. Dean can’t even hold it against Gabriel that he managed to get Sam roped into his one and only detention in 12 years. He’d never tell Sam, but it was about time he got into some trouble. He’d even been kinda proud.

But that’s another reason Dean tagged along tonight. He needs to meet this kid to make sure he’s not really trouble, and he’s still not super comfortable with sending his twelve year old brother out after dark alone considering his secondary gender hasn’t even presented yet. He’s still just a pup (even though Sam hates when he points that out) and since his old man is gone on another bender for who knows how long, it’s up to Dean to take care of him.

“I’m not gonna be able to out deke myself ya know,” Sam says suddenly, pulling Dean away from his thoughts.

Dean grins at the challenge as Sam opens up the door on the boards and steps onto the ice. Dean’s only a few steps behind, and pretty soon the two of them are taking a leisurely lap around the ice to warm up a bit. It’s been a while since he’s been on skates, and the way his toes are scrunched up to fit inside of them proves his feet have grown, but it still feels damn good to do something just because he wants to for once. He goes around and around the rink, even doing a lap backwards for practice as he gets a feel for how hard the ice is and where the soft spots are on the rink. As the wind whips his face, Dean decides he’s glad he opted for the thin snow pants with his hoodie because his legs would’ve frozen otherwise. And he was right to nag Sammy into wearing a hat; he’s glad he pulled one on, too.

“Hey stretch!” Dean hears from a booming voice. He follows the sound to look over to see the kid Sam described across the rink. Short with a big mouth definitely fits, he thinks with a smile.

“Shut up, Gabe,” Sam says back, and Dean huffs out a laugh at how much his little brother sounds just like him saying that. Sam skates over though, so Dean follows to say hello.

“Hey,” Dean says with a nod as he comes to a stop. Because he gets the feeling Gabriel is sizing him up, he says, “Ya know, if we split the difference between how freakishly tall Sam is and your little short stack, we might be able to make one normal sized teenager.”

“Ohhh. You must be funny’s cousin, _not_ funny,” Gabriel says back, and Dean barks out a laugh despite the insult.

Sam jumps in with, “This is my brother, Dean. Dean, Gabriel. You guys wanna get a game going or what?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting on my brother to ‘find his stride’,” Gabriel says mockingly, nodding to where a taller kid is standing by the boards.

Dean chuckles a little at the sight of him holding onto the wooden boards like a lifeline, and the instinct to help is so ingrained that he decides to skate over to give the guy a hand.

“You two get a warm up in and I’ll see what I can do with Bambi over here,” he says with a cocky smile.

The closer he gets, the more he notices that this guy isn’t a kid at all, but an adult. Dean’s 16, and this guy definitely has a few years on him if his height and bulk is anything to go by. He’s a little nervous now that he knows that, and he scents the air hoping to tell if he’s an alpha, beta, or omega like him (though he doubts it). The air’s too turned up though from all the people skating around to get a whiff of anything specific, so it isn’t until he shoots the guy a smile and gets within arms reach that it hits him.

He breathes in deeply, forgetting his manners entirely, and closes his eyes to truly appreciate the enticing scent of dark chocolate and something... something sweet but sour...

“Excuse me,” a deep, rough voice says. The voice is so much closer than he was expecting it to be that it scares the bejesus out of him and he slips back on his blade. He barely has time to process that he almost had his face pressed to this stranger’s neck before he’s falling halfway down to what he knows is going to be one hell of a bruise on his ass when strong, firm hands catch him on his shoulders and steady him enough that he’s able to catch his balance (if not his breath).

Flushing right to the tips of his hat-covered ears, Dean glances up through his eyelashes shyly and says, “Nice catch.”

Then his eyes lock onto the bluest eyes he’s ever seen in his life, and just like that, the scent he was trying to come up with a few seconds ago hits him: blueberry. Dark chocolate and blueberry, and he breathes it in greedily again, visualizing it in his mind as the scent coils throughout his entire body and takes hold of something inside of him he didn’t know existed until now. Thick fingers tighten on his arms and that’s when he notices the alpha’s nostrils are twitching, trying and failing to scent him surreptitiously.  

Dean’s shoulders heave, his breath is coming out in big puffs of white clouds in front of him while he tries to drink in as much of this scent as he can, but then the alpha in front of him releases his shoulders abruptly and takes a deliberate step back.

“Sorry about that,” the man says. “I lost my head there for a second.”

“Clearly, I can relate,” Dean says with a grin, feeling less sure of himself than he’d like. No alpha has ever caused him to be foggy in the head like this before and he tries to shake it off while struggling not to think about why he's reacting like this. “You’re Gabriel’s brother?”

“Castiel,” he says with a smile.

“Your parents got a thing with the _i-e-l_ names, huh?”

“So it would seem. You must be Dean?”

“In the flesh. And listen, anything Sammy might’ve told you about me -”

“Was definitely true!” Sam calls out as he skates past him.

“I wish I had something good to hold over you, but unfortunately, Gabriel and I don’t have much in common, so he doesn’t tell me a lot about his friends... or his friends’ brothers,” he says, cocking his head to the side a little bit like he’s confused himself somehow.

Dean nods, though he doesn’t get not having much in common with your own brother. “Big age difference between you, right? Must make it harder to get along.”

“Almost ten years. Different fathers,” Castiel supplies.

Dean does the math and figures that puts Castiel somewhere around 23. So he was right, he is an older guy. And fucking hot, too.

“Which parent did you get your skating skills from?” Dean teases.

“Whoever it is, I’d like to have a few words with them right about now,” Castiel says with a sigh, making Dean laugh a little. “I used to know how to skate really well when I was younger, but it’s been a while.”

“Well, you’re pretty old now, so that’s probably why you forgot.”

Castiel purses his lips, drawing Dean’s attention to them for the first time. They’re pale pink and chapped, and Dean’s tongue darts out to wet his own lips instinctively. “I’m not that old,” Castiel argues, sounding insulted.

Dean chuckles. “I don’t know about that. I only see little kids and really old men riding the boards like you are.”

“Says the kid who was almost scared onto his ass by two words,” Castiel says back, and Dean grins as he curves his skate into a _c_ behind him and backs up a little bit. “How old are you anyway?”

“16. Compared to me, you’re basically ancient,” Dean teases.

“I remember when I thought I was brilliant and invincible at 16, too,” Castiel says. “Reality was a rude awakening.”

“You remember that far back?” Dean says, faking his surprise as he continues to back up further and further. “Come on then,” Dean urges. He sees the way something flashes in Castiel’s eyes, the challenge maybe, and he grins even wider. “Kid versus old man. Hate to break it to you, Cas, but my money’s on me.”

Castiel lets go of the boards and begins skating towards him, a little wobbly at the ankles but with a good form, and Dean knows it’s only a matter of a few laps before he’s got his legs under him again. Skating’s like riding a bike and he’ll get it sooner than later if he really knew how to skate before. As soon as he has the thought, Castiel almost loses his balance and Dean laughs lightly. “Take it easy there, Bambi.”

“You’re mouthy for an omega,” Castiel says, all but admitting to the way he was scenting him back earlier.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” Dean smirks, his confidence growing slowly now.

“I’m shocked,” Castiel responds dryly, surprising a genuine laugh out of Dean.

Castiel takes advantage of his surprise and lunges forwards, almost reaching him before Dean darts out of the way again, and now he’s laughing outright. His heart’s racing, and something he’s not familiar with outside of his heats is beginning to stir under his skin. The next words are out of his mouth before he can even think about what he’s saying.

“Catch me if you can.”

He sees Castiel’s eyes flash alpha red for a split second before Dean spins and skates away at full speed, a trail of laughter following him as the thrill of a chase spurs him on. He whips around the rink, dodging other people, and crossing his feet one over the other as he takes the corner. He can’t see Cas behind him, doesn’t spare himself a second to look, but he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s closing in. Even though Cas is behind him and it should be impossible, Dean can smell his scent surrounding him. It’s shifting, heating up, smelling like blueberry and dark chocolate but butter and sugar now, too. Almost like something’s baking... like, _god,_ it smells exactly like blueberry muffins baking in the oven and it’s warming something inside of him with every breath.

For the first time in his life, he _wants_ to be caught, but only if Castiel earns it. He wants the alpha to be faster than him, stronger than him, athletic enough to really catch him. His heart’s racing, his skin feels tingly, and the anticipation is swirling in his stomach like a tornado. As he rounds the corner at the other end of the rink, two strong arms frame him on either side, guiding him sharply but still somehow gently into the boards where their bodies collide together.

Dean tilts his head to the side instantly, baring his neck for the alpha who just won his prize, and _fuck,_ he’s every omega he’s ever seen and rolled his eyes at in those damn chick flicks right now because he feels honest to god weak in the knees when Castiel’s cold nose - _any_ nose - drags along his scent gland for the first time in his life.

He’s pinned to the boards by Castiel’s bigger body, he can hear a low rumble in the alpha’s chest, but there isn’t a shred of fear anywhere inside of him. His instincts are begging him to submit to the strong, delicious-smelling alpha who caught him, and he’s never been more on board with anything in his damn life.

“Alpha,” Dean whimpers.

“Dean,” Castiel replies, his lips so close to his neck that his hot breath ghosts against his skin. “You smell - you smell _so good._ So _perfect._ And I c-caught you -”

“Strong alpha,” Dean purrs, earning himself a low growl from Castiel that causes the first trickle of slick to make its appearance.

“Oh g-god,” Castiel stutters again, rubbing over his scent gland once more with a shuddering breath. “Dean - _go.”_

Dean blinks, trying to make sense of the sharp stab of pain that tears through him. “What?” he asks breathlessly.

“Go!” Castiel says again, though he isn’t backing away at all. If anything, he presses him more firmly against the boards, making his spine straighten against the wood behind him. Dean gasps when he feels the hard line of what must be an erection digging into his stomach. _Shit,_ Cas is tall compared to him and fucking hung, too. “I’m - I think I’m going into a rut. You need to -” Dean whimpers when Castiel’s mouth opens and he feels his hot tongue lick against his neck.

 _“Please,_ Cas,” Dean begs mindlessly,

 _“Oh fuck,_ so good. So _sweet,_ omega. You need - _shit_ \- get... get out of here, Dean! _Now!”_ Castiel roars.

The booming command in his voice has Dean following blindly, ducking out of Castiel’s arms and skating away. Tears flood his vision as rejection slams into him, stealing his breath and sending all-encompassing pain ricocheting through his body. Cas caught him, the alpha in him chased him and caught him and _scented_ him, and now he doesn’t want him? He’s a terrible fucking omega. Should’ve kept his mouth shut for once in his damn life. This fucking _hurts._ He’s humiliated, disgusted with himself and his instincts, embarrassed that Sam and Gabe and god knows who else would’ve seen all of this, and stupidly heartbroken over being turned away by the first person to ever scent him.

 _“Dean!”_ Dean flinches as his brother’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “What the hell was that? Did he - was he going to - to r-”

“No,” Dean barks out, his voice rough and insulted on Castiel’s behalf at the question. “No. I asked him to catch me, Sam.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asks as Dean skates off of the ice and flops down on the bench. He winces as he sits in the slick he hadn’t noticed gathering in his boxers before, now cold and sticky against him. Shit, that’s disgusting. He must smell like a whore house.

“‘m fine,” he lies. “I uh, gotta get out of here though.”

“Castiel seems okay now that you’re not over there,” Sam says, looking over to where Dean left him at the boards. “Gabe calmed him down, he’s not going nuts anymore.”

“All the more reason for me to leave,” Dean says. “We don’t want me to get him riled up again, and my skates are too small now anyway.” Besides, since Sam hasn’t presented yet he can’t smell him, but he knows others will be able to easily enough and he’s not looking for a one-sided repeat of what just happened on the rink. Sam’s sitting beside him now and taking his skates off, too, and Dean glances over at him. “Sorry to ruin your night out with your buddy.”

“No big deal,” Sam says. “Maybe I’ll send him a text and ask him to come over to watch the movie you and me rented or something.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, kid,” Dean says, shoving his feet in his boots and getting to his feet.

He looks over at where Cas is standing against the boards, both hands gripping the wooden rail but his face turned in Dean’s direction. He can see even from here that Cas looks broken, like a shell of the man who was goofing around with him earlier, and it actually hurts to follow his orders and resist going over there to comfort him the way he knows the alpha needs.

Following his instincts, he takes off his hat and puts it in Sam’s hands, ignoring the bewildered look on his face as he pulls his hood up over his head. “I can’t go over there, but I’m gonna walk through the parking lot and wait for you on the street, and I want you to go give this to Cas once I’m over there, okay? Tell him I ain’t mad at him, and that I’m - I’m sorry I wasn’t a good enough omega for him, okay?”

“What? No way! I’m not telling him that!”

“Sammy, please,” Dean breathes. “Just tell him.”

Sam huffs but turns away and calls Gabriel over. Knowing that’s a yes, he grabs his duffel and his stick and hustles across the lot like he said he would. When he turns back to wait for Sam, he sees Castiel bury his face in the hat. Even from this distance, it’s impossible to miss how his shoulders relax, and Dean still has a reluctant smile on his face when he walks into the welcoming heat of their shitty ass shoe box apartment five minutes later. Maybe Cas doesn’t hate his scent after all. But then why did he ask him to leave?

Castiel has both hands clamped down on the railing of the boards, trying to breathe through his mouth so the enticing scent of the slicking omega doesn’t make him lose his mind again. Jesus Christ, _what’s the matter with him?_ That omega is just a kid for god’s sake! His secondary gender just presented within the last year and Castiel has absolutely no business chasing him like some alpha knothead. Even worse than that, he pinned the poor kid to the boards and scented him without even asking. He hisses at the very memory of the rich coffee scent, and god, when Dean’s body started to react to his he could smell the faintest hint of cinnamon and brown sugar, and then it was like the sweetest gourmet coffee he could imagine.  

Castiel huffs through his nose, trying to rid his nostrils from the phantom scent as his fingers dig into the boards again. His body tenses when Gabriel approaches, not wanting anybody anywhere near him right now but the omega he forced away.

“Are they gone yet?” Castiel bites out, though he already knows the answer. He’s had his eyes trained on Dean since he stepped off of the rink, only managing to look away when Dean looked back over at him. He wasn’t certain he had the willpower not to go after him again if their eyes locked, even though he’s standing here berating himself for doing it in the first place.

“Don’t pop your knot, they’re going,” Gabriel answers. “You gonna be okay to drive us home?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as he’s away from where I can get to him,” Castiel answers, his voice tight. He can’t even think about the possibility of going after him now. If Dean ran again he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself a second time.

“You know, I’ve never seen you go all 'stereotypical alpha' like that before,” Gabriel says curiously.

“That’s because it’s never happened before, and I hope to god it never happens again. I’m so embarrassed and disappointed in myself,” he admits quietly. “I thought I had better control than that, that I would never _ever_ be one of those knotheads who treats an omega like something they’re entitled to just because they smell good.”

“Dean’s okay, though,” Gabriel reassures him.

“Only because I rejected him,” Castiel says through clenched teeth. How Dean’s scent had changed between one breath and the next clawed at him, his alpha instincts begging him to comfort, protect, do whatever he had to do in order to get rid of that burnt coffee smell. But the thing Dean needed protection from was him, and even as out of his mind as he was, he knew if he tried to comfort him he’d also try to knot him and Dean is _a kid_ for god’s sake.

“He did look like somebody kicked his puppy,” Gabriel agrees. “But now that he’s far enough away that he can probably escape if you go all red-eyed on us again, I guess I can tell you Dean must not have been too upset. Sam said he wanted you to have this.”

Castiel turns towards Gabriel, eyes drawn towards the hat he’s holding out for him. He recognizes it as Dean’s hat, and he snatches it from his hand without a thought, instantly bringing it directly to his nose and breathing in deep. _Jesus_ Dean smells good. So unbelievably good that the single deep breath causes most of the tension and self hatred he was feeling only a second ago to melt away entirely. It’s replaced with the sweet scent of Dean, something in the gourmet coffee smell putting him at ease and making him feel better, right, comfortable.

He opens his eyes only to fall on Dean’s back as he walks away and out of sight.

Dean leaving something that smells like him to help Castiel through what he’s sure is going to be an intense rut is a bold gesture, but Castiel can’t deny the way it both soothes him and makes him want to drench it in his seed at the same time. Dean’s a very smart, intuitive little omega, and a swell of pride grows inside of him at the thought. Not that he can have him, with Dean being six years younger than him, but it doesn’t change the facts. He shakes his head, trying to dispel all thoughts of how intrigued he is by Dean. Not only is it wrong, he’s not even sure it’s technically _legal._

God, he’s such a creep.

“Sam was pretty pissy about playing messenger,” Gabriel says, cutting through his internal monologue. “But Dean said to tell you that he’s not mad at you -”

“Well, he should be,” Castiel interrupts, angry on his behalf. The fact that Dean is only 16 and already perfectly fine with being manhandled, scented without permission, and treated this poorly by an alpha is enough to make him want to punch a hole right through the boards in front of him. This is absolutely everything that’s wrong with alpha/omega culture and he’s furious with himself all over again for contributing to such an archaic, disgusting notion.

“- and that he’s sorry he wasn’t a good enough omega for you.”

“What?” Castiel gasps, the anger replaced with a dull ache so strong he feels his knees go weak with it. “What did you say?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.

“That’s what Dean told Sam. Word for word. He’s not mad at you, and he’s sorry he wasn’t a good enough omega for you.”

It’s absolute insanity, but he would swear he can actually feel his heart crack in two. His sweet omega deserves all the good things in the world for being so beautiful, so bold, and so casually intelligent. That mouth on him, having the wit to banter with an alpha so sassily, he’s perfect in absolutely every way. Knowing that his own behavior caused Dean to feel that way, like he wasn’t good enough when in reality it was the complete opposite - he was _too_ good - wounds him in ways he doesn’t even fully understand.

“I need to talk to him,” Castiel says, skating across the rink.

“You’re not going anywhere near him until your rut is over, bucko,” Gabriel says fiercely, grabbing ahold of his elbow. A snarl curls his lip before he can stop it, but Gabriel doesn’t let go. “You’ll _hurt_ him!” Gabriel insists, and Castiel finds the strength to stop as the truth in his words sinks in.

“I need to talk to him,” he says again, his mind whirling now. “Do you have his phone number?”

Gabriel pauses, deliberates. He can all but see the wheels turning and the worst part of himself wants to tear his brother’s head right off. “I have Sam’s. And I’ll give it to you, but not until after your rut.”

Though waiting is the last thing he wants to do, he nods as a new idea takes form. “Will you get a message to Dean for me before then?” Gabriel opens his mouth, the protest written all over his face before he even gets a word out. “Him thinking that way could affect him mentally and physically for _days,_  Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighs heavily. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell him... tell him he’s the most beautiful omega I have ever seen, sassy and smart, and absolutely perfect. But he’s 16, and it’s inappropriate for me to be anywhere near him with how he made me feel.” He eyes Gabriel closely, ensuring he’s getting every word, and nods once he’s certain he has. “It’s imperative that he understands his age is the only reason I sent him away.”

“Gotcha,” Gabriel says with a nod, typing out a text message and sending it to Sam. “All taken care of.”

He sighs with relief and says, “Thank you.” With that dealt with, the two of them make their way off of the ice and into the car so he can spend the next 24 hours in the comfort of his home while he goes through his rut.

Dean is in a really shitty mood. If there are words that mean _more_ than shitty, he’s that, too, he just doesn’t know what they are. He’s miserable, quick-tempered, and has been biting everybody’s heads off for the last two days, all because some stupid alpha shut him down.

He huffs bitterly even as he has the thought because he might only be sixteen, but he knows without knowing _how_ he knows that Castiel wasn’t just some stupid alpha. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure Cas is his alpha. Like, his mate. And that has a lot to do with why he’s so fucked up because he’s sixteen! Nobody wants to meet their mate at sixteen. He wants what most sixteen year olds want: all kinds of sex. He wants it with males and females, alphas, betas, omegas, and any and all combinations of both sexes and designations.

Or at least he did.

Now all he wants is Cas.

Even thinking about being with somebody else now makes him feel like he’s going to barf, and as if that isn’t already bad enough, Cas pushed him away because he’s too young. He can be a lot of things, would be willing and fucking eager to be whatever Cas needs, but even he can’t make himself older. He’ll be seventeen in three weeks, but what difference does it make? If he’s too young at 16, why would a few weeks and 17 make a difference?

What’s he supposed to do? Be alone and horny for the next few years until Cas decides he’s adult enough to be with? Because it’s not like he can be with anybody else now, and he’s pretty damn sure Cas must feel the same way as he does.

So it’s been two days since Cas pushed him away, and yeah, he’s been feeling really shitty ever since. It’s Saturday now, and he’s using his terrible mood to push him into catching up on homework.

He doesn’t have the patience or the state of mind to do anything else. He had already told the friends he hangs out with on the weekends that he’s probably coming down with something so he wouldn’t be out of the house, so when his phone chimes with a text message he scowls at it without reaching for it. When it chimes a second time only a moment later, he’s curious enough to check it out.

 **UNKNOWN NUMBER:** Hello, Dean. This is Castiel Milton.  
**UNKNOWN NUMBER:** From the skating rink.

Dean glances at it, blinking at it in surprise. Before he can think to do anything else, it dings again.

 **UNKNOWN NUMBER:** I’m sorry I didn’t check in sooner but I had Gabriel take away my phone and computer during my rut. How are you doing?

Dean is already tapping out a response before the scowl has fully formed on his face.

 **DEAN:** I was rejected by an alpha after he scented me. What do u think?  
**CASTIEL:** Didn’t Gabriel get a message to you about that?  
**DEAN:** And??? How is that supposed to help?  
**CASTIEL:** You must understand the moral dilemma of me losing my head and scenting someone underage the way I did...  
**DEAN:** But who gives a fuck about the emotional dilemma of an omega, right?  
**CASTIEL:** Obviously I do care or I wouldn’t be checking in.  
**DEAN:** Ya, real big of you 2 days later. Thanks for nothing.  
**CASTIEL:** I’m sorry. I wish I could have spoken to you sooner. What can I do to help you now?  
**DEAN:** Nothing, don’t worry about it.  
**CASTIEL:** Dean, I said I’m sorry.  
**DEAN:** And I’m still sitting here feeling like shit so I guess that didn’t work.  
**CASTIEL:** What do you want me to do?  
**DEAN:** I want to see u again.  
**CASTIEL:** That’s a terrible idea.  
**DEAN:** Ya that’s what I thought.

With that, he powers off his phone and flops onto his bed with a sigh. A part of him knows he’s being at least a little bit unreasonable but he can’t find it in him to care about that if Castiel doesn’t care about him. If he’s not good enough for Castiel to see, then he has nothing else to say to him.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday pass without any change to his terrible mood. It finally comes to a head when he accidentally knocks a jar of spaghetti sauce off of the counter at dinner time. He curses like a sailor, somehow manages to slice his thumb open on a piece of glass, and because Sam isn’t home yet, that means it’s up to him to drag his cranky ass to the grocery store a few blocks away.

He gets half way there when the sky opens up out of nowhere and big, fat drops start falling on his hoodie. Rain in Northern Ontario in fucking January, he thinks with an angry glance at the sky. _Th_ _at_ makes sense. He picks up his pace and jogs more than he walks, making it without getting fully soaked, but more pissed off than ever because now he knows there’s no way he’s going to get home without getting wet. He stalks towards the canned food aisle and grabs the jar of sauce, then stops as he gets a whiff of some kind of pastry that must be coming from the bakery.

He’s not dumb enough to say that baked goods are a fix-all for everything, but in his experience, it’s as close as it gets. Following his nose, he finds a display full of pies and takes a deep breath, his eyes all but rolling back in his head as the scent settles inside of him. He draws in a second long breath, feeling his shoulders relax and tension bleed out of him bit by bit the longer he stands in front of the pie.

When he opens his eyes again, he checks out the pies laid out and goes for the blueberry right off the bat. It’s never been his favorite - the honor there would go to apple or pecan - but today, it’s definitely got to be blueberry. It’s the strongest and best-smelling out of all the pies on display, so he scoops one off of the shelf and brings it right to his nose to get another whiff.

His eyebrows crease in confusion when the pie doesn’t smell nearly as good up close as it does from a distance, and at the exact same moment he hears, “Dean,” in a low, rough voice he would know anywhere.

He turns towards it and suddenly everything makes sense.

It wasn’t the scent of blueberry pie he was smelling, and it wasn’t the pie that eased his stress and erased his bad mood. It was Castiel.

“Shit,” Dean says quietly.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks.

Dean can’t answer right away, though, because he’s distracted by the sight of him. He sorta looks like shit, to be honest. He has major bags under his eyes, making it look like he hasn’t slept for days. His hair is sticking up in thirty different directions (but not in a way that makes it seem like he did it on purpose), his facial hair is sparse and patchy, and as Dean meets his eyes, he sees they’re bloodshot, too.

Dean closes the distance between them absentmindedly, only stopping once he’s close enough to be cloaked in his scent. “You need some sleep.”

Castiel frowns but doesn’t back away. “You need a jacket.”

“Wasn’t raining when I left.”

Castiel looks down at the pie in Dean’s hands. “Did you come here for dessert?”

“No.” He can feel his face heat up with a blush and hates that he can’t will it away. “I thought it was the blueberry pie that smelled so good at first, but it wasn’t.” He doesn’t elaborate anymore; he knows that he doesn’t need to.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” Castiel says abruptly, sounding almost guilty.

Dean lets out a soft snort of laughter. “Neither did I ten minutes ago.”

“I was just here to get some fresh bread to go with dinner,” Castiel says, gesturing down at the loaf in his hands. “I thought I recognized your scent when you first walked by. I didn’t want to bother you since you've made it pretty clear you don’t want to talk to me, but I was worried with how bitter it smelled.” Castiel scents the air subtly. “You don’t seem as bad now, though. Is everything okay?”

Considering that he knows it was Castiel’s scent that calmed him down, his back goes up automatically. “Since when do you care?”

Castiel’s body language morphs from awkward and unsure to tight and irritated. “I’ve cared since the moment I met you.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a piss-poor way of showing it. I gotta make dinner, I’ll see you around,” Dean says, shouldering his way past him and to the checkout, dumping the pie on a random shelf on the way now that he doesn’t want it anymore. The last thing he needs is to indulge himself in something that smells like the alpha he apparently can’t have.

“Dean,” Castiel says sharply from behind him.

Dean ignores him. He keeps ignoring him when Castiel chooses the same check-out as he does, and he ignores him again when he follows him out of the store, too.

“Dean,” Castiel repeats again. “Wait!” The rain is really coming down now, but they’re not getting wet just yet thanks to the overhang from the building. “Dean, please,” Castiel says once more, so close to him now that he spins on instinct, not wanting an alpha to loom over him like that from behind.

 _“What?”_ Dean barks.

Castiel seems frozen in place, like he really didn’t expect him to stop at all. “Will you let me drive you home so you don’t get completely soaked?”

“No,” Dean answers. He turns to keep walking but stops when a big hand wraps around his elbow.

He’s about to rip Castiel a new one for grabbing at him without permission when he hears, “Dean, please.” He hasn't heard Castiel speak softly like this before. “It’s the least I can do.” Dean glances over at him, and the earnest expression on his face paired with those pleading blue eyes steals the next _no_ right from his lips.

“Fine,” he grumbles, and Castiel’s lips turn up into a triumphant smile that he wishes wasn’t half as adorable as it is.

Next thing he knows, Castiel has pulled off the ridiculous tan trench coat he’s wearing and holds it up over Dean’s head to shield him from the rain as he leads him towards the passenger door of a sleek black car.

Dean climbs in and greedily inhales the potent scent of Castiel that’s swirling inside the car and clinging to the seats before Cas can catch him. The scent of _alpha_ is so strong and concentrated it’s breathtaking, and he would happily stay right here absolutely swamped in it for the rest of his life if he could.

When Castiel gets inside, it only gets stronger, and mixed with the clean scent of the rain that’s dripping down his face, it’s not even fair that Dean has to share a space with him without being allowed to touch him. He should be nervous, being in a confined space with an alpha he doesn’t know (especially considering how Cas reacted to him at the skating rink) but he isn’t. Something about Cas puts him at ease and he finds himself sinking into the soft leather seat, hoping this sweater keeps smelling like dark chocolate and blueberry for days after he gets out.

“Wow, it’s really coming down,” Castiel says, running his hand through his hair and down his face.

“Probably should’ve left your coat on.”

“It had better uses,” Castiel says, stuffing it between their seats along with the bread and starting the car with a turn of the ignition.

"Did you shoplift that bread?" Dean asks, knowing he didn't wait long enough behind him to pay.

"I threw five dollars at the cashier on the way out," Castiel says defensively, making Dean chuckle. “Where am I taking you?”

“Oh. I just live down the street on McNamara,” Dean says, not really pleased about having to tell Castiel where he lives. A guy with a car like this isn’t going to think much of the hole in the wall apartment they still barely make rent on most of the time.

“Not far at all then,” Castiel comments.

As he backs out of the parking spot expertly, Dean chances a glance at him and then wants to weep over his profile. Strong, chiseled jaw, straight nose, hair everywhere. He’s gorgeous, but as he looks closer, he sees the same signs of Cas not getting enough sleep as he saw in the store.

“Guess it’s a dick thing to say, but it’s sorta nice to know I’m not the only one who’s been sleeping like shit,” Dean says with a sheepish grin.

“If that’s the case, it’s really not fair that you look as fresh faced as you did the first time we met,” Castiel replies.

“Perk of youth, I guess,” Dean says jokingly.

Castiel laughs even though it wasn’t that funny, and Dean notices his posture isn’t so stiff anymore. Loosening up looks good on him.

“Which house is yours?” Castiel asks as they pull onto his street.

“It’s the apartment building there at the end,” Dean tells him, pointing it out. He’s sure Cas tries to keep a blank face, but he sees when he presses his lips into a hard line. “It’s not as bad on the inside.”

Castiel pulls into the guest parking and turns the car off. “I’ll walk you in.”

“Dude, it’s fine. I walked out by myself.”

“I insist, _dude,”_ Castiel says in a mocking tone of voice as he steps back into the rain. The playful side of Cas coming out again pulls a laugh out of him and reminds him why he was so taken with the older alpha in the first place.

Dean barely has time to try to rein that in before his door is pulled open and Castiel has his coat held up as a makeshift umbrella once more. They make it to the front door of the apartment building, Dean uses his key to let them in, and Castiel shakes out his coat before slipping into it.

“What’s with the trench coat anyway?” Dean asks as he heads down the hall to his place.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“I don’t know any other twenty year olds who wear a trench coat to the grocery store,” Dean says pointedly.

“Just how many twenty year olds are you familiar with?” Castiel questions.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Dean says, shooting him a grin. Castiel frowns again as Dean leads the way towards his apartment. Once he reaches the door he raps his knuckles on the door lightly, knowing nobody’s home. “Looks like we made it.”

“This is yours?” Castiel asks.

“Home sweet home. So thanks for walking me in or whatever. Your good deed for the day is done.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad I got the chance to see you’re doing okay, especially since you stopped answering my text messages,” Castiel says. For some reason, Dean gets the feeling this is something he’s been waiting to say since he first laid eyes on him.

Dean shrugs. “Didn’t seem like there was anything else to say.”

As Castiel’s blue eyes bore into his, Dean feels his inner omega urging him to lower his eyes in submission. He pushes that aside and holds Castiel’s gaze, even going a step further to jut his chin up defiantly. He swallows hard when Castiel’s eyes drop to his lips. _That_ lowers his chin, and he wets his lips, leaving them parted and (hopefully) tempting.

Castiel inhales sharply and takes a deliberate step back, running his hand through his hair. “This is exactly why I can’t spend time with you,” Castiel says, effectively breaking the tension between them.

Dean looks away, trying not to show how big a blow it is to be rejected twice by the same alpha. “I don’t get what the big deal is.”

“About?”

“Me. So what if I’m sixteen? You’re only seven years older than me.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Castiel says, seemingly automatically if the way he slams his mouth shut afterwards is anything to go by.

“And I’ll be 17 in a few weeks,” Dean tells him for the first time.

“Seventeen?” Cas repeats, perking up a little bit.

“Yup. So that means there's less than six years between us,” Dean taunts him.

“When’s your birthday?”

“January 24.”

Dean’s surprised but really fucking pleased when Castiel takes a step towards him again and tenderly cups his face in his hand. He feels like he’s melting from the inside out as Castiel’s thumb skirts along his cheekbone before his whole hand slides down to his neck to rub his fingers along his scent gland. And that’s it. That’s all it takes. For the second time in his whole damn life he’s dead ass swooning over the alpha in front of him.

“Do you have plans for the weekend after?” Castiel asks quietly.

Even if he did, he’d cancel dinner with the Queen herself to spend time with Cas. “Nothing that I know of.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

His inner omega is basically doing cartwheels, but Dean isn’t willing to give in that easily. Instead of eagerly agreeing the way he wants to, he shrugs a single shoulder and replies, “I’ll think about it.”

Cas takes a step closer and Dean’s breath hitches when Castiel’s big hand tightens on his neck the tiniest little bit. “Is there someone else?”

Dean snorts out a laugh even as a shiver of anticipation works its way up his spine. “I’m pretty sure there’d have to be a first someone for there to be a someone else. Woulda figured an older guy like you would know that.”

“So you just give articles of clothing to any alpha, then?” Castiel tosses back.

 _Fuck no._ “Maybe I do.”

Castiel’s voice is curiously soft when he says, “Don’t.”

“That an order, alpha?” Dean asks him, placing a hand on his broad chest and letting his fingers drift down his breast bone teasingly.

“The alpha in me wants to say yes,” Castiel says quietly, and he can already smell the blueberry heating up, just like muffins baking. “The alpha in me wants to pin you to the door right now and scent mark you so thoroughly that no other alpha will be able to get a whiff of you for weeks without smelling me first.” Embarrassingly, a whimper claws its way out of Dean’s throat without his permission and Cas moves in another inch so that he can feel the heat radiating off of his body as his scent envelopes him. “But I’m not about to go into a rut this time, so I think I can control myself.”

Dean moistens his lips with a quick flick of his tongue, then uses Castiel’s earlier response against him again. “Don’t.”

Castiel is on him in an instant. His spine is flush with the door and Castiel’s nose follows the line of his jaw to a tender spot behind his ear. Castiel’s breath is hot on his neck and Dean’s skin breaks out in goosebumps. Already desperate for more, he turns his head to the side, exposing his neck for the alpha.

“How you tempt me, Dean,” Castiel says, his voice low. “Nothing has ever smelled as good as you do, omega.” Dean lets out a needy whine that’s probably drowned out by the low sound of displeasure Cas makes before he pulls back, rubbing his thumb over his scent gland again.

Dean recognizes that he’s marking him in a non-sexual way and closes his eyes as he gets the first whiff of Castiel’s blueberry/dark chocolate combo mixing with his own familiar coffee scent. It’s intoxicating, and he’s damn sure from the very first whiff that this is how he and his mate were always supposed to smell together.

“I don’t know if I’m more overwhelmed by our mingling scents or how relaxed and happy you look now compared to how I first saw you tonight.”

Dean lets his eyes flutter open, smiling coyly. “Funny how fast that changed.”

“The weekend after your birthday, Dean. Please?”

Dean nods and earns himself a smile from Castiel that somehow rapidly erases the worst of the bags under his eyes. “But only if you promise me you’ll catch up on sleep first. Don’t wanna go for dinner with a corpse.”

Castiel laughs quietly, rubbing over Dean’s neck once more before he drops his hand to his shoulder and gives it a friendly squeeze. “It’s a deal.” Cas takes a step back and cocks his head to the side as he squints his eyes. “Will you answer my text messages now?”

Dean tries to hide his smile while he works the key into the door and steps inside. He turns around before he closes it and says, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. Thanks for the ride, alpha.”

He closes the door on Castiel’s exasperated smile and finishes making his spaghetti with his hips swaying to classic rock on the radio and the lingering scent of blueberry muffins on his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toque = a winter hat. Kind of like a beanie but warmer. It’s pronounced like “tewk” and rhymes with duke.
> 
> Poutine = French fries with cheese curds (or shredded cheese) and brown gravy on top

**_2007_ **

Each day that passes without being close to Dean the way his body is begging him to be feels like an eternity. He knows he’s right to keep the distance between them - his brief encounter with him at the grocery store a few weeks ago was more than enough proof of that - but that doesn’t mean he likes it. The law is the law, though, and because he specifically checked, he knows that Dean can’t legally consent to sexual activity with him until there’s less than a five year age gap between them.

Truthfully, he doesn’t know if the weeks until Dean turns 17 technically count, but he’s also not willing to take the chance, and he’s absolutely certain he can’t rely on his self control to keep his hands to himself when Dean’s already bared his neck to him several times. He’d like to think he’s stronger than that, but Dean... Well, Dean is not only the most gorgeous person he’s ever laid eyes on, but his scent calls to the alpha inside of him, pulling him in like a moth to a flame, and the moment he feels that _tug_ it’s like he’s completely unable to fight it.

It’s odd enough that he’s Googled it looking for an explanation, but all he found were a bunch of references to romance novels and movies where they refer to that kind of connection as true mates, but Castiel knows that’s as foolish as the notion of soul mates. It’s a romantic ideation many people buy into out of the sheer desperation to believe they won’t end up alone because there’s someone out there meant to fall in love with them. He doesn’t believe in that, but he also isn’t so naive to think there isn’t something special about what he and Dean already have after spending a handful of minutes together. He just has to figure out what it is.

Thankfully, Dean has been answering his text messages since they bumped into each other, and they’ve exchanged mostly light-hearted, friendly texts. Dean’s continued his playful insults over Castiel’s age, and Castiel has been happy to play along. Something about Dean makes him feel airy and easy in a way he’s never really felt before, and Gabriel and his mother have both commented on it, though Gabriel’s immature observations are nowhere near as worrisome as his mother’s. Fortunately she travels more frequently than she’s home, so he’s able to dodge her for the time being, which is good because he doesn’t want her asking too many questions just yet.

It’s been two weeks since he last saw Dean, and it’s been trying, to say the least. He would say that’s why the sound of an incoming message always makes him smile as he is now, but honestly, he doesn’t think that’s going to stop once they’re able to spend time together.

 **DEAN:** Cold as balls outside today  
**CASTIEL:** Good morning to you, too. Your way with words continues to astound me.  
**DEAN:** lol should have heard the string of curses I let out when I walked out the front door  
**CASTIEL:** Too bad you were too stubborn to accept a ride with me when I offered  
**DEAN:** I’m not gonna be a kept omega just because ur an older, fancy pants alpha  
**CASTIEL:** All this judgement when you haven’t even seen my fancy pants yet.  
**DEAN:** loser :P ttyl

Castiel sighs as he rolls over onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his arms. He knows that will be the last he hears from Dean until at least lunchtime, but more likely after school. He’s not one of those alphas Dean was referring to earlier - the kind of alpha who wants to know where their mates are twenty-four hours a day - but he will admit that he hates not being able to talk to Dean while he’s in school.

The days never seemed so long or empty until now. Because he isn’t sure what he wants to do with his life just yet, he took the tutoring job he was offered by one of his old high school teachers. It’s a casual position, so he only works the occasional few hours during the day or a few evenings a week, but he’s surprised by how much he enjoys the work. The sense of pride and accomplishment he feels when he sees a child really _get_ what they haven’t been able to understand on their own is very rewarding, and he’s toying with the idea of being a teacher.

The only thing he has planned today is two tutoring sessions, and it’s when he walks out into the cold that the perfect idea suddenly strikes him. Just because he can’t _see_ Dean doesn’t mean he can’t be close to him.

He walks with a self-satisfied bounce in his step when he swings by Dean’s apartment building on the way to work and leaves his scarf tied to the doorknob. He knows Dean will be able to tell it’s from him because of his scent, and the alpha part of him is extremely pleased with both knowing Dean will be a little warmer tomorrow and by the thought of Dean being draped in his scent even though he can’t be with him.

He sends Dean a quick message, knowing he won’t get it until after class when he’s with his student.

 **CASTIEL:** I left you a little something to keep you warm tomorrow :)

Satisfied with that, he makes his way to the resource center to meet up with his first student. It goes surprisingly well, and the second 60 minute session flies by as well, leaving his chest puffed out with pride when he returns to his car at the end of the day. Once he’s inside, he has to wait a few minutes for the windshield to defrost, so he pulls out his flip phone and sees there are messages waiting from Dean.

 **DEAN:** I’m glad my phone doesn’t have a camera because then I’d have to show u a pic of how red my face is  
**DEAN:** I’m not used to this sweet shit, Cas. Idk what to say.  
**DEAN:** It smells amazing and I love it

Castiel is grinning like an idiot, chuckling slightly at the long periods of time between each message. He gets the impression that Dean kept thinking about him after he sent each message and that’s why there were three in a row, and it makes him happier than ever. Just picturing how cute Dean must look with his pink cheeks and Castiel’s blue scarf wrapped around his neck makes him miss Dean fiercely.

 **CASTIEL:** I’m glad. I’d be willing to bet you’re absolutely adorable in it :)  
**DEAN:** I am pretty adorable ;) Thanks Cas  
**CASTIEL:** It was my pleasure.  
**DEAN:** Ya, don’t think I’m not onto u scent marking me from a distance  
**CASTIEL:** I have no idea what you’re talking about  
**DEAN:** lol good try, old man  
**CASTIEL:** I don’t hear any objections?  
**DEAN:** You do remember how good we smell together, right? I’m in heaven over here  
**CASTIEL:** And I’m incredibly jealous.  
**DEAN:** So come over then. Bet you can keep me warmer than the scarf ;)

Seeing as he’s alone in the car, Castiel gives into the urge to groan in frustration. He would love to have Dean in his arms right now, his nose pressed to his scent gland, inhaling that rich coffee scent that haunts him every moment of every day.

 **CASTIEL:** I wish I didn’t have to say no :(  
**DEAN:** What difference does today or Friday make?  
**CASTIEL:** You’ll be 17 on Friday  
**DEAN:** So?  
**CASTIEL:** So once you’re 17, then I can see you without going to jail

Probably.

 **DEAN:** I thought the age of consent was 14 in Canada?

Castiel smiles at even more proof of just how intelligent Dean is. He caught on to what he was saying very quickly.

 **CASTIEL:** It is, when there is less than a five year age difference between the two parties.  
**DEAN:** That’s why u’ve been staying away from me?  
**CASTIEL:** I hope you know by now that I’m not only interested in you physically, but I didn’t want to take any chances with how we respond to one another.  
**DEAN:** So let me get this straight. U think just because u smell good I’m gonna bend over for u?

Castiel is so surprised by Dean’s accusatory tone he just about drops his phone.

 **DEAN:** Jk. Bet u were shitting yourself :P  
**CASTIEL:** That wasn't very nice  
**DEAN:** Ya but it was hilarious

Castiel shakes his head in exasperation. What is he going to do with an omega like Dean? He’s so easy-going, jokes more frequently than he’s serious, and has such a care-free disposition that Castiel doesn’t even know how to relate to him, other than to shake his head. His mother is so strict that any roughhousing or nonintellectual jokes were never allowed in the house. He’s always thought that’s why Gabriel acts out so much when he’s not at home, because that’s the only chance he has to actually be a child.

For Castiel, he just never felt the need to joke around or be childish until he met Dean. From the very beginning, he’d wanted to do whatever he could to make Dean smile, and the banter between them had come to him easily in a way it never has before. He likes who he is when Dean brings out that side of him. With that in mind, he types out what he thinks Dean would think is a witty reply.

 **CASTIEL:** One of these days you’re going to make my “old man heart” give out, you know.  
**DEAN:** lol u know ur face won’t crack if u smile once in a while, right?  
**CASTIEL:** That remains to be seen. I apologize, but I have to drive home and have dinner with my mother now. I’ll speak to you either later tonight or tomorrow.  
**DEAN:** Sounds good, nite Cas

It’s only two more days until it’s Dean’s 17th birthday, and thankfully, his mother is gone on another business trip. He’s wracked his brain for almost three weeks trying to come up with an appropriate gift idea for Dean, but it’s incredibly difficult seeing as he’s not even quite sure what they are to one another right now. He’d love to lavish Dean with an expensive gift to show him how much he means to him already, but he’s pretty sure Dean wouldn’t accept or appreciate something like that. From everything he’s learned about Dean so far, he thinks what he would like the most would be something practical, he just hasn’t figured out how that can translate to an appropriate gift yet.

The day before Dean’s birthday, Castiel spends the afternoon wandering aimlessly around the mall. He goes into stores he’s never been in before, talks to countless sales people, and still walks away empty handed. That night, as a last resort, he knocks on Gabriel’s bedroom door and waits for his brother to yell for him to come in.

“Hey Cassie, how’s it hangin’?” Gabriel asks him.

Castiel frowns, trying to decide how to answer such a strange question. “Everything’s fine,” he decides to go with. “I was wondering if you could put me in contact with Sam Winchester.”

“Working your way through the whole family, huh?” Gabriel asks, sparks in his eyes.

“Please, don’t be crude,” Castiel replies haughtily.

Gabriel snorts with laughter and says, “Yeah, I’ll send you his number.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Castiel says, smiling to show his appreciation.

“But first you have to tell me why.”

He should have known Gabriel wouldn’t do anything that easily. “I need to ask for help with a birthday gift for Dean.”

“I could’ve helped you with that!” Gabriel exclaims.

Castiel’s interest is piqued. “Really?”

“Sam borderline hero worships his older brother, I probably know shit about that guy he’d pay me to keep quiet about.” As he says that, he tilts his head to the side as if considering something for the first time, and Castiel knows him well enough to guess what he’s suddenly contemplating.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Gabriel guffaws and wiggles his eyebrows. “Always nice to have lucrative options, big bro,” he grins. “Anywho, I know just the thing for the bow legged Barbie doll.”

“I’m riveted,” Castiel says dryly.

“I’m telling you. Wait for it.” He lifts his hands in the air and positions them like he’s about to start conducting an orchestra. They wave in the air, once, twice, three times, and just as Castiel is really starting to lose his patience, Gabriel pauses and says, “Edible underwear.”

“You’re an idiot,” Castiel huffs, turning his back on Gabriel’s raucous laughter and starting back down the hallway to his own room.

“Hold on a second, don’t get your knot in a twist,” Gabriel says, chasing after him. “That was a joke, Cassie. You were supposed to laugh.”

“I don’t find sexualizing omegas very funny, especially when they’re not here to defend themselves.”

Gabriel’s eye roll is a full body event, starting with his eyes, transferring to his neck, and ending with his shoulders and hips slumped to one side dramatically. “I would have said the same thing if he was an alpha, thank you very much.” And Castiel has to admit that’s probably true. “I do have a real idea if you want it,” Gabriel offers in a sing-song tone of voice, now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed with an impish smile on his face. Castiel nods his head reluctantly, already expecting the worst from him. “Sam told me Dean’s skates are too small.”

He’s sure his face lights up because that’s _perfect._ Not only is it a practical gift, he and Dean met at a skating rink so there’s a slight emotional tie there, too.

“That’s exactly the kind of idea I was looking for. Do you think you can find out what size he needs?”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Gabriel. I owe you one.”

Now it’s Gabriel’s turn for _his_ face to light up. “Don’t think I’m not gonna call you on that!”

Now in a much better mood than he was a little while ago, he laughs as he awkwardly pats his little brother on the shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of affection. “I believe it. I’ll see you later, squirt.”

“I take offense to that!” Gabriel calls after him, but it’s obvious from his tone of voice that he doesn’t really, so Castiel shoots him a quick smile over his shoulder as he grabs his keys and heads towards the closest sporting goods store before it closes.

The next day after school, he waits in the parking lot of Dean’s apartment building with the gift wrapped and on his lap, waiting nervously for the okay from Gabriel to go drop it off to Sam. He’s only been there about ten minutes when the message comes through.

 **GABRIEL:** Dean has made like a banana and split

Castiel shakes his head and pockets his phone, then hurries into the apartment building and to Dean’s door. He doesn’t have the chance to knock before Sam pulls the door open and greets him with a warm smile.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel says, passing him the box. His eyelids drift shut when a wall of coffee-scented air hits him and he drinks it in greedily while he can.

“Hey, thanks.” Castiel’s eyes fly open again once he realizes he’s being rude by scenting the air so unabashedly. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. “Dean’s going to lose his mind when he sees these. He never gets anything new.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help getting the right size, so I appreciate your help.”

“It was nothing,” Sam answers. “You sure you don’t want to hang around ‘til Dean’s out of the shower?”

A bolt of desire shoots through him from head-to-toe. Knowing Dean is naked and wet and only feet away from him drags his mind to all kinds of inappropriate places he really can’t afford to linger, and he thanks his lucky stars that Sam hasn’t presented yet and can’t scent his arousal. He swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat and replies, “No, I’ll see him on Friday, but thank you. I better get going before he comes out here. Thank you again for your help, Sam.”

“See ya later, Cas,” Sam says, and Castiel smiles genuinely at hearing Sam use Dean’s nickname for him. As he walks back to his car he tries to force his mind away from thinking about Dean in the shower and focuses on the fact that Dean’s been talking about him often enough for Sam to catch onto what he calls him.

Wondering how on earth he’s going to keep his hands to himself Friday night, Castiel pulls out of the parking lot as fast as possible so that he doesn’t have to fight the temptation to stay.

His stomach is still twisting with nerves and lingering arousal when he’s walking through the hall and back into his bedroom. Thankfully, some of that dissolves when his phone rings and he sees it’s Dean calling.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean replies, his light tone of voice putting Castiel at ease. “You’re never gonna believe what just happened!”

Surprised and confused, he asks, “Oh?”

“This super smooth alpha who’s hot as hell and smells like sex on legs just gave me the best birthday present _ever.”_

Castiel has a relieved smile on his face when he replies, “It sounds like I have some very stiff competition.” Dean laughs, the sound as soothing to his soul as his scent is, and Castiel flops onto his bed happily. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

“Thanks, man.” He huffs out another laugh, the happy sound only widening Castiel’s smile. “I don’t even know how to say thanks for such an awesome gift. How the hell did you know I needed a new pair?”

“I have my sources,” Castiel teases him.

“Well you’re smooth as hell.”

“I’m just pleased you like them.”

“You kidding? I haven’t had a brand new pair of skates since I was five!” Dean exclaims. “And did you read on the box that they’re supposed to mold to my feet? How cool is that?”

“The salesman told me, but I actually have a pair just like them and I can personally guarantee they’re very comfortable.”

“Guess this evens out the playing field now,” Dean says excitedly. “Your alpha ass will have to work even harder to catch me next time we’re on the ice.”

Castiel exhales slowly as the memory of catching Dean the first time comes back to him in startling detail. Dean had smelled _so sweet._ “My alpha ass is very much looking forward to that.”

Dean laughs again and there’s a few moments of silence before he says, “Hey Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Friday’s a date, right?”

He thought he had made his interest in Dean perfectly clear, but maybe he hasn’t. He chooses his words carefully. “I was hoping it would be.”

“Older guy like you is probably juggling half a dozen omegas at once though, eh? One for each night of the week?”

He can hear the false bravado in Dean’s voice and wonders why he would pretend to be okay with something that he clearly isn’t. Deciding to answer honestly, he asks, “How could I possibly juggle half a dozen omegas when I can’t get you out of my mind for more than five minutes at a time?”

“Oh,” Dean says quietly, and maybe it’s just his imagination, but he thinks he can hear a faint smile. “Cool.”

“Just because you’re plagued with countless admirers doesn’t mean we all are,” Castiel says next.

Dean huffs out a sarcastic sounding laugh. “If you mean a buncha knothead teenagers who think grinding against my ass while I’m bent over putting shit in my locker is the best way to hit on an omega, then yeah, sure. I’m admired three times a day.”

Rage tears through him in an instant. “I could kill every one of them with my bare hands for touching you without your permission,” Castiel growls out. Then, when it dawns on him, his anger turns inwards as he adds, “Not that I was any better at the skating rink.”

“Dude, no. I _asked you_ to chase me. I would’ve bent over for you gladly if it meant _you’d_ grind against me.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, exasperated and more turned on than he wants to be from hearing him say that.

“What?” Dean laughs lightly. “Want me to pretend it’s not true?”

“As if you would,” Castiel shoots back.

Dean snorts with laughter. “Not my fault you make my ass leak like a tap.”

Castiel pushes his hand through his hair restlessly. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Got you a little flustered, alpha?” Dean taunts him.

“You make it exceedingly difficult to be a gentleman,” Castiel admits.

“Guess I know what to say to make sure you kiss me goodnight on Friday,” Dean jokes.

Castiel makes sure his voice is soft but firm when he replies, “I’m not kidding when I say you need to be careful with that, Dean. You tempt me in ways I didn’t even know were possible and I would never forgive myself if I hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Dean says easily.

“I already lost control twice and I don’t want it to happen again. I want to get to know who you are more than I want us to be mindless slaves to our instincts.”

“I get that,” Dean answers. “You wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks talking to me and asking me lame shit like my favorite color if you were only after me for a quick fuck.”

“I’ll have you know that lame question came in handy when it was time to wrap your birthday present,” Castiel defends.

“Sam made fun of me when I kept the paper,” Dean admits quietly.

“Because you liked the color, right?”

“No. Well, yeah,” he corrects. “But it smelled like you, and I know it’s weird - never mind,” Dean cuts off.

“Oh come on,” Castiel whines. “You can’t just start a sentence with, ‘I know it’s weird,’ and then not finish it.”

“You’re gonna laugh,” Dean complains.

“I promise I won’t.”

Dean sighs heavily before he answers. His voice comes out soft and shy and Castiel wants to wrap him up in his arms and never let him go even before he hears what he says. “I know it’s weird, but I sorta miss you.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs happily. “That makes me very happy.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks hopefully.

“Yes. Extremely happy. And if it makes you feel any less weird, I miss you, too. Sorta,” he tags on jokingly.

“I feel like such a girl,” Dean complains, making Castiel laugh. He can only imagine how deliciously pink his cheeks are right now.

“Will you let me scent you on a first date, Dean?”

“I’ll let you do a lot more than that,” Dean answers quickly. Castiel groans good-naturedly, earning himself another chuckle from Dean. “Hey, the pizza Sam ordered for dinner just got here. I gotta go.”

“Of course. I’m glad I got a chance to talk to you.”

“Thanks again for the gift, Cas. It was really awesome of you to do that.”

“It was my pleasure,” Castiel says earnestly.

“K, I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, alpha.”

Castiel’s heart, which he was sure was already filled to the brim after hearing Dean say he misses him so shyly, overflows with warmth as he hears the dial tone. Hearing Dean call him alpha as an endearment instead of to tease him has a profound effect on him he can’t even begin to understand. A lot like Dean’s scent, actually.

After giving himself another few minutes to just bask in the way Dean makes him feel, he gets up to go find Gabriel to tell him how much Dean liked the skates.

If Dean thought he felt like a girl on his birthday, it’s nothing compared to how he feels getting ready for his first date with Cas. He has no fucking idea what he’s supposed to wear on a date and is too chickenshit to ask Cas because he doesn’t want to seem like the inexperienced 17 year old he is, so he’s doing the logical thing and trying on everything he owns before throwing it in the corner of his room.

He’s at least decided on a pair of dark jeans that he thinks Cas will drool over because of the way they hug his hips, but he’s bare chested and reeking of panic when Sam gives him a heart attack by talking when he didn’t know he was there.

“I’m pretty sure a shirt is required for first dates,” Sam says, poking his head in the doorway of Dean’s bedroom. “Unless you’re going swimming, I guess,” he laughs.

“Real fucking funny,” Dean says sharply.

“Woah, chill out. What’s the matter?”

“Apparently I’ve grown a vagina and can’t decide what the hell to wear.”

Even though he’s rifling through his closet for the tenth fucking time he can _feel_ Sam’s frown. “You’d think all the crap you deal with just for being an omega would be enough to make you of all people not say sexist things like that.”

“Okay, Samantha, can we save the lecture on women’s rights for when I’m not already having an identity crisis?”

“Jeez, would you calm down already? Cas liked you when you were in snow pants and a toque, whatever you wear is gonna be fine.”

“Okay good, so I should definitely go with the Mystery Machine tee then?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“Not like he wouldn’t still take you out if you did, but maybe a button down might be better?”

Dean nods, feeling a sliver of calm now that he has a suggestion to work with. “Which one though?”

“One of the nicer ones,” Sam says, walking in now and pulling the hangers apart to look at the few still hanging. “No stains and no rips, and not one that’s so worn it’s basically see-through.” He pulls out a plain black, long sleeved dress shirt and says, “How about this?”

“Isn’t it kinda plain?”

“It’s simple, there’s a difference. Do you know where you’re going?”

“No,” Dean complains. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Well roll up the sleeves, put on some of those bracelets you wear all the time, and with your jeans and a nice pair of shoes, you should be able to pass at a fancy restaurant or the movies.”

“You don’t think he’d take me to some stuck up, rich people place though, do you?” Dean asks, suddenly terrified of the idea.

“I don’t know. Gabe said his family is pretty loaded but I’ve never met his parents or seen his house so he could be lying for all I know.”

Dean blows out a long breath. “Okay, well let’s just deal with one crisis at a time and get me dressed and not stinking like a burnt pot of coffee before Cas gets here, then we can worry about the other shit.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean’s dressed, his hair is spiked at the front, and he’s pacing in front of the door waiting for Cas to get there. When the knock finally comes, he just about jumps out of his skin with nerves and excitement.

He takes one deep breath and then opens the door with what he hopes is an inviting smile on his face and takes in the sight of Cas in front of him. He’s wearing that damn trench coat again so he can’t see what he has on underneath, but he can tell he’s wearing jeans and black and white converse sneakers, so he must not be taking him anywhere too nice. The best part, though, is that he smells _amazing._

“Hey, Cas,” he says, instantly embarrassed by how breathy his voice is.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replies. “You look absolutely perfect.”

“And you’re wearing the old man trench coat again,” he teases.

“I knew how much you liked it,” Cas jokes right back, and as he takes another step closer Dean gets the first whiff of blueberry and dark chocolate straight from the source in almost three weeks.

“God damn you smell good,” Dean says as he breathes it in.

Dean jerks again at Sam’s voice coming from behind him. “I thought it was bad manners to comment on another person’s scent?”

“I thought I told you to keep your scrawny ass in the living room,” Dean reminds him.

“Just wanted to tell you to have a good time and make sure Cas doesn’t keep you out too late,” Sam says, laughing slightly at his own joke.

Cas sounds entirely serious when he says, “I’ll have him home by eleven.”

Dean rolls his eyes as he grabs his nicest winter coat and Cas’s scarf out of the closet. “Don’t wait up,” he says to Sam, then he steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind him, glancing up at Cas. “Half expected you to show up with flowers or some shit.”

Castiel’s lips quirk into a smile. “You have no idea how many times I went back and forth on that.” Dean’s distracted from answering when Castiel stops suddenly, his fingers reaching out to fix Dean’s scarf around the back of his neck. There’s only a few inches between them in the hallway and Cas seems to stand oddly still as he runs his fingers down the length of the scarf before he takes a step back and gazes into his eyes. “My scarf looks good on you.”

Dean pulls it off and loops it back around Castiel’s neck, trying not to get lost in how adorable the guy looks with his eyebrows all scrunched together like that. “Wear it tonight and get it all Cas-smelling for me before you give it back again.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Cas says, looking pleased as he continues down the hall.

There’s a comfortable silence between them while Dean does everything he can to subtly take in as much of Castiel’s scent as possible, and when he sees Cas’s shoulders rising and falling out of the corner of his eye he figures Cas is probably doing the same thing. Cas opens the car door for him and the blueberry/chocolate scent only increases once he gets inside, but this time there’s a definite sour tinge to it that he guesses is probably nerves. Weirdly, knowing that Cas was nervous too helps to calm him down.

“So am I allowed to know where we’re going now?” he asks once Cas is behind the wheel.

“I suppose I’ve made you wait long enough,” Cas says, shooting him a smile. “I made us reservations at The Keg.”

“Oh,” Dean says, trying to make his voice sound normal.

Cas picks up on it right away. “What’s wrong? You’re not a vegetarian are you?”

“No,” he laughs. “I’m actually the opposite of a vegetarian. I hate vegetables.”

“Who hates vegetables?” Cas asks, sounding surprised.

“Your date,” he reminds him.

“We’ll come back to this,” Cas promises. “What’s wrong with The Keg, then? Do you not like steak? Because they have chicken.”

“No, it’ll be fine, Cas. It’s just a little out of my comfort zone.” When Cas tilts his head in a silent question, he elaborates, “My dad barely makes enough for rent most of the time, so going somewhere like The Keg isn’t something I’m real familiar with, but we can give it a shot.”

“No, we should go somewhere you feel comfortable instead. What’s your favorite restaurant?”

Dean smiles as he thinks about the burger joint down the road. “You’re not gonna want to go there.”

“Why, do they serve roadkill?”

He laughs and says, “God, I hope not. It’s just Burger World.”

“You have fantastic taste. They have the best poutine in town.”

He feels some of his nervousness settle once he realizes Cas is familiar with the place if he knows that. “Yeah, they do. Great burgers, too.”

“Let’s go there instead,” Castiel offers.

“It’s probably not a great place for a date, and you already have a reservation at The Keg.”

“It’s Friday night, they won’t have any problems filling it. I’d rather go somewhere you’re comfortable. And I don’t want to come on too strong, but I’m sure anywhere with you would be a good place for a date.”

Dean huffs out a laugh, a weird mix of embarrassed and pleased. “You probably say that to all your dates.”

Castiel grins at him as he pulls out of the parking lot. “I think the chances are pretty good that I’ll be able to keep that secret between me and the one other person I’ve ever taken on a date.”

“Seriously? You’ve only been on one other date ever?”

“Yes, and it was such a disaster it took me more than five years to get over the nightmares and be willing to try again.”

Dean chuckles. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

By the time they’re seated across from one another at a booth with a couple of Pepsis in front of them, Dean is laughing so hard at Castiel’s impression of his date talking all the way through _Minority Report_ at the movie theater and actually flossing her teeth in front of him he can feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“And then! As if she couldn’t tell by my scent or my demeanor that I wasn’t enjoying myself, she basically forced her tongue down my throat at the end of the night. And somehow, despite the ardent flossing, I found out the hard way that she didn’t manage to get all of the popcorn kernels when she transferred one into my mouth while she was kissing me.”

“Oh shit,” Dean sputters. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was horrible and I haven’t had the guts to ask anybody out again since.”

“So I’m guessing we’re not going to a movie after this?” Dean jokes, and he feels pride run through him when Cas tips his head back and laughs a low, booming laugh. Cas’s smile is so big when he looks back at Dean that he can see some of his gums above his teeth, his nose is scrunched up adorably, and he smells _so_ happy that Dean can’t control his tongue. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Cas’s smile turns into something shyer, but he reaches across the table to cover one of Dean’s hands with his. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, but thank you. I’m having a really good time.”

Dean’s answering smile goes with the blush on his face, which probably has something to do with how he can’t stop looking at Cas’s thumb brushing the back of his hand. Makes him feel... special or something. He tries to shrug it off with, “The Flosser just makes me look good.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I could survive it if you had help to make you look any better.”

Dean’s spared having to come up with a response to that when their meals are brought over: two bacon cheese burgers with poutine on the side. Cas steers the conversation to their families, and he learns that Cas’s dad is a struggling writer who remarried and moved to the United States, and his mom is a successful business woman for the biggest natural gas company in Canada. Cas still lives at home because his mom travels so much, and if it weren’t for him, Gabriel would have been shipped off to a boarding school.

Dean tells him bitterly about how his mom died in a freak accident when he was five and his dad’s been a worthless drunk ever since who moved them North all through the country until he finally reached Canada and just kept going. This is the longest they’ve ever been in one place, and it’s only been less than two years. But Dean likes it here, and once he graduates, his plan is to work and save up for his own place so Sammy can stay with him instead of having to worry about moving again now that he's actually got a friend and a hockey team to play on.

That carries them all the way through dinner, and it isn’t until they decide to share a piece of pie for dessert that Cas asks, “Do you have any extended family?”

“We get birthday and Christmas cards from my mom’s dad with twenty bucks in them, but I don’t even know what they look like. They live somewhere in Kansas I think.”

“I never would have guessed you’re American. You don’t have an accent or anything,” Castiel says next.

Dean shrugs. “Moved too much for anything to really stick, I guess. I’m already picking up your Canadian slang though, so that’s probably why you didn’t notice.”

“Canadian slang like what?”

“Eh, for one thing,” Dean answers, smiling. “I laughed every time I heard it for the first few months and then started using it without even noticing.” Grasping for something else to say, he adds, “Obviously I love poutine. I call it pop instead of soda now.”

“Soda,” Cas snickers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says easily. “Freakin’ love hockey. Even started cheering for Toronto.”

“If you said Montreal we might have had to call it quits,” Cas says seriously, but his eyes are dancing. “Who are your favorite players?”

“Sundin is awesome, but that’s a given. I dunno, I kinda like Kaberle and McCabe.”

“I’m sure that has nothing to do with how good looking McCabe is,” Cas teases and Dean grins because he’s absolutely right. “I like him, too, and I’ve got a soft spot for Tucker for some reason.”

“Can’t knock your taste. He kinda has a Doctor Sexy thing going for him with the longer hair.”

“I meant the way he handles the puck, but I’m getting a clear picture of the men you’re attracted to at least.”

“I didn’t know there were any mirrors around here,” Dean says with a wink, and Cas shakes his head at him, but he smiles, too.

“Now that I can’t possibly eat another bite -” Cas says, sitting back in the booth.

Dean doesn’t waste a second before tugging the pie closer to him and saying, “More for me!”

Cas watches him wolf down a giant bite with a fond smile. “Would you like to spend some more time together tonight or do you need to go home to digest?”

Dean appreciates that he’s giving him an easy out, but there’s not even a tiny part of him that wants to take it. “What were you thinkin’?”

“Have you heard of the Ice Follies?”

“I’ve heard of it, yeah, but I don’t really know what it is.”

“It’s outside, which is lucky for us since it isn’t freezing tonight, but it’s basically an art exhibit set up on Lake Nipissing. They’re having a paper lantern release tonight at nine for a fundraiser, and I thought it might be cool to see.”

“I’m not really an arty kinda guy, but the lantern thing sounds cool,” Dean says honestly.

“It’s not traditional art anyway. There are igloos we can go inside, ice sculptures, light shows. Not just paint splashes on a canvas that look like they were done by a four year old,” Cas says with a smile.

“That sounds cool. I’m in.”

“I have warmer jackets, boots, and hats and mitts in the car so we don’t get too cold.”

Dean shoots him his patented grin and says, “Damn, I thought you were gonna use this as an excuse to warm me up.”

“You just ruined my secret plan,” Cas says without missing a beat, and when Dean is extra careful to lick every speck of whipped cream off of his fork just to smell the blueberry and chocolate heat up, he tells Cas he had it coming.

After pulling into the parking lot at the waterfront, Dean watches while Cas pulls out winter clothes from the trunk as promised. They both switch into warmer boots, Dean changes his jacket for a North Face winter coat he recognizes as the one Cas was wearing at the skating rink, and he smiles shyly while Cas tugs a hat onto his head for him and wraps his scarf around his neck.

“Was it part of your secret plan to douse me in your scent all night, too?” Dean teases him, trying not to look like he’s about to go into a scent coma the way he feels.

“No, that’s just a fun bonus for me,” Cas answers. “My coat’s going to smell like the best blend of gourmet coffee beans for days after this.”

“Only if this goes well. Otherwise you’ll smell like burnt coffee.”

“I’ll make sure I’m on my best behavior then,” Cas says, slipping into a plain black winter coat, a toque, and gloves of his own. “Oh, almost forgot your gloves. Here you go.”

“Can you tuck ‘em in under my coat sleeves for me? It’s kinda a weird pet peeve when my wrists aren’t covered.”

“You’re adorable,” Cas says, but he drops his own mitts on the ground to help Dean with his. Dean feels like he’d be able to stay at a comfortable temperature all night just from all of the warmth in his chest as he watches Cas dutifully tuck in his mitts with their breaths mingling between them in puffs of fog that disappear into the night. Cas’s lips quirk into a smile as he finishes up and says, “My cute little coffee bean.”

“Oh my god,” Dean complains as his cheeks turn red so fast they feel like they’re going to catch on fire.

Castiel is chuckling as he closes the trunk. “It fits. You _are_ adorable, and smaller than me, and you smell like coffee. _And_ coffee bean rhymes with Dean. It’s catchy.”

“Most guys go for shit like baby or sweetheart, and I get stuck with the weirdo who calls me a coffee bean,” Dean grumbles under his breath, not nearly as grouchy about it as he‘s letting on.

“You’re far too special to be called something as generic as baby,” Cas says, and even though they’re wearing gloves, his heart melts a little bit when Cas takes his hand as they walk towards the ice.

“I nicknamed my dad’s car Baby and there’s nothing as special as her,” Dean defends.

“All the more reason why I can’t call you that, then, coffee bean,” Cas says.

For a split second he thinks Cas said coffee Dean, but then Cas laughs and he realizes what he actually said. He wants to be annoyed but for some stupid reason he blushes _again,_ so he pushes him away in self-defense, causing Cas’s laughter to ring out through the night as he stumbles a few steps away.

“I take you to dinner and that’s the thanks I get?”

“Don’t worry, alpha, I plan on thanking you properly at the end of the night,” Dean says suggestively, and he’s almost proud of how quickly Cas’s scent heats up. “Wow, you’re really into me, huh?”

“I was before you pushed me,” Cas says petulantly, and now it’s Dean’s turn to laugh.

“You know the fake pouting thing doesn’t work when I can smell the way your scent just cranked up a notch, right?”

“Kind of how you’ve been smelling sweeter and sweeter each and every time I’ve touched you tonight?”

“I wondered if you noticed since you’re still all the way over there with about four layers of clothes between us.”

“All part of my plan not to _admire_ _you_ the first time you bent over,” Cas shoots back, and Dean can’t help but chuckle at the inside joke.

But it’s probably a little true, he realizes as they keep walking. The winter layers mute their scents and the fresh air means it doesn’t circulate, and Cas’s coat is so big on him Cas wouldn’t be able to see his ass even if he did bend over. The fact that Dean knows that’s likely not accidental because Cas has been so open about wanting to treat him well only makes him want to be even closer to him.

“Get your ass back over here and hold my hand,” Dean asks finally.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Cas replies.

But he doesn’t actually hold his hand. Instead, he wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulder and tucks him in nice and close as they keep walking. Dean’s never been happier about dating an older, taller man than he is right now because he fuckin’ loves the way he fits against him all nice and snug. The extra warmth is welcome, but really, it’s how he feels safe and almost... precious... that’s making him so happy.

Cas nuzzles into his temple and makes a pleased little sound in the back of his throat and Dean’s sure it’s because he can scent the contentedness radiating off of him. For whatever reason, that seems to be the turning point of the evening. From then on, Dean’s sure there isn’t more than a thirty second window all night when Cas isn’t touching him. It isn’t possessive or aggressive or anything like that, just sweet, soft touches to his lower back, his neck, his temple, his forehead, his cheek. Everything is covered by layers of fabric because of their winter gear, but it doesn’t have any less of an effect on him. Cas keeps transferring more and more of his scent onto Dean, and by the time they’ve got their paper lanterns, Dean fully understands the meaning of scent-drunk for the first time in his life.

There’s dozens of lit lanterns floating above their heads when Cas pulls off his gloves and holds out the matches that were given to them. “Are you ready to light them?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Dean says with a nod.

Cas offers the matches to Dean but he shakes his head, letting Cas do the honors. First he lights Dean’s, then his own. They hold the two lanterns between their bodies, and with an odd sense of excitement mounting inside of him, he looks up to check if Cas is ready to let go, but the words die in his throat.

The glow from the lanterns in their hands is bathing Castiel’s face in a soft, yellow light that flickers across his chiseled features. Cas is breathtakingly gorgeous and when his mind goes blissfully blank from everything except for how Cas’s face is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, his fingers let go of the lantern and it floats up into the air. Only a second later, Cas’s joins his, and both of their necks tilt upwards to watch them ascend into the night sky with all the others. He smiles when Cas wraps his arms around him from behind. He lets Cas take most of his weight as he leans back into him, and he’s sure he smells as sweet as a candy shop when Castiel’s nose settles cold on his skin just behind the bolt of his jaw, only inches away from scenting him for real.

He hums happily and Cas holds him nice and close until their lanterns are only specks in the sky. Only then does Cas release him, turning Dean to face him with a gentle hand over his scarf on the back of his neck. He looks up at Cas to see him already gazing down at him intently.

“I was going to wait until the end of the night, but you’re so beautiful, omega, inside and out. May I kiss you?”

Hearing Cas call him _omega_ has his knees damn near giving out on him, and he wets his lips before he breathes, “Yeah.”

Cas’s smile flashes bright and quick for a split second before he’s leaning in, and Dean’s eyelashes hit his freckled cheeks at the same moment his life changes forever. The first soft, tentative press of Castiel’s lips against his - cold, chapped, and dry - is still like sinking into bed at the end of a long hard day. Cas makes a low sound in his throat as he kisses him chastely again and again, rearranging their lips until they’re slotted together just right before increasing the pressure.  

Dean matches his passion eagerly, pressing his lips firmly to Cas’s while drinking in the perfect blend of their scents as they get warmer and warmer the longer they kiss. Castiel’s lips part and Dean mirrors him, opening his mouth and allowing Cas to cradle his lower lip between both of his and that’s fucking _it._ He’s a goner. Something inside of him shifts, cracking open to make space for this sweet alpha whose scent is heating up rapidly to the most mouthwatering scent of arousal (blueberry muffins steaming hot out of the oven) but who continues to kiss him softly, tenderly, like he’s cherishing every moment instead of thinking about ripping his clothes off.

A sound that can only be described as a whimper rises up all the way from Dean’s curled toes and his body begs for more. He teases the seam of Castiel’s lips with his tongue and Cas takes the invitation for what it is, stepping even closer to him, erasing any remaining distance between them and sweeping his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean moans quietly as he opens his mouth wider, their mouths and tongues working together in a tantalizing dance that makes his blood boil.

 _Jesus Christ._ He’s been kissed before, thought he’d had some damn good ones, even, but all of those are absolutely _nothing_ compared to this. They way he and Cas fit together, their complimenting scents, the warmth that’s threatening to explode out of his chest, and the dampening skin between his legs is nothing like anything he’s ever felt before from a kiss and all he wants is more. More kisses, more skin, more of Cas’s scent getting hotter and hotter every time their tongues move together. He wishes there weren’t so many layers between them, wishes he could feel the way their bodies fit without them and if Cas’s skin is heating up the same way his is.

The only clue Cas gives him that he’s anywhere close to as affected as him is the way his fingers tighten the smallest little bit where they’re resting between his shoulder blades. _Just_ as Cas’s teeth dig into his lip, eliciting a sharp gasp and the first trickle of slick to truly escape him, Cas wrenches his lips away and pulls Dean into a tight hug. They’re both gasping for breath, and each deep inhale draws more and more of Castiel’s aroused scent into his nostrils.

“I’m sorry,” Cas whispers hoarsely. “I meant to be gentle.”

“You were,” Dean replies, surprised by how low his own voice is.

Cas pulls away just enough to place another feather light kiss on his lips, and as Dean opens his eyes again, he sees the lanterns in the sky like little golden sparkles reflected in the dark pools of Castiel’s usually bright eyes. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he can feel something sappy and embarrassing getting ready to spill out, but Cas beats him to it.

“Nothing has ever shone so bright as you. The light that comes from you, Dean, I swear it feels like you’re the only thing I’m meant to see,” Cas says quietly.

The breath is knocked out of him when, for the first time in his life, he feels the sudden and undeniable urge to _claim._ It hits him like lightning, electrifying his insides and reverberating out and along his skin, causing goosebumps to pop up along his spine and spread down his arms to his fingertips. He squeezes his eyes closed tight, trying to figure out how to deal with this overwhelming sensation, what to do, how to act, when he hears Cas.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

“I - I need -” He clamps his mouth shut, trying to force down the words.

“Tell me what you need. Anything, omega, and it’s yours.”

The fight leaves him instantly. “Can I scent you? Please, alpha?”

Cas tilts Dean’s chin up and plants another soft kiss on his lips before he nuzzles their noses together, his scent soothing him incrementally until he feels almost normal again. He hears the zipper of Cas’s jacket lower as Cas’s fingers wiggle beneath Dean’s scarf until he finds a sliver of exposed skin on the back of Dean’s neck. The sensation of Cas’s fingers on his bare skin is sharp and intense, and when Cas guides Dean’s nose towards his bared neck, Dean goes eagerly.

With his eyes closed, he follows his instincts until his nose has found the strongest smelling patch of skin he can and he rubs against it firmly. When he smells a hint of coffee mixed in with Castiel’s blueberry/dark chocolate, he does it again, using his cheek this time, too, and damn near melts through the ice he’s standing on when he smells their scents really start to mingle.

He draws in breath after breath, his nose pressed firmly to his alpha’s skin and lets their combined scents soothe the burn for more until his head feels almost fuzzy with how drunk he is on it. He doesn’t realize how tightly wound Cas’s arms are around him until he’s finally steady enough to pull away after what feels like a really long time later.

Cas is looking down at him so fondly Dean doesn’t even second-guess himself before he declares, “My alpha.”

Cas’s eyes darken impossibly further, and Dean bares his neck for him to scent him back. Cas moves slowly but without hesitation, and when he allows Cas to scent him for the first time, everything else disappears but how right it feels. By the time they’re both pumping off the heavenly scent of blueberry coffee, he can’t even pretend to be mad when Cas pulls away smiling. “My little coffee bean,” he teases gently. His voice is serious and his eyes sincere though, when he adds, “My omega.”

Dean feels his heart flood with emotion when they kiss once more, again back at the car, and during the dozen goodnight kisses he coaxes out of Cas on his doorstep. Though they don’t say it, they both know when they part ways that night that they just found their first great love.


	4. Chapter 4

**_2019_ **

Dean’s first alarm goes off two hours after he and Cas crawled into bed together. He reaches for it blindly and swipes the screen until it goes off, groaning quietly at the achiness in his bones from sleeping on Castiel’s mattress instead of his memory foam. After a short stretch, he rolls over in Cas’s arms until they’re face to face. He thought Cas was still sleeping, so he’s startled when he notices Cas’s blue eyes are already trained on him.

“Hey,” Dean says, clearing his throat after he hears how rough his voice is. “How do you feel?”

“Irritated by the alarm that just woke me up,” Castiel answers, the roughness in _his_ voice putting Dean’s to shame.

“Guess that means you’re lucid enough,” Dean says with a half smile, remembering fondly how grouchy Cas always was when he first woke up in the morning. Since Cas has rolled onto his back with his arms folded behind his head, Dean snuggles in and lies his head on his shoulder, letting his hand rest on his firm chest. Cas’s strong arms come back around him and Dean smiles when Cas drops his nose into his hair and he can feel Cas’s shoulders rise as he breathes in deeply.

“Thank you for checking on me, Dean.”

The way Cas says his name ripples along his skin, and as an unexpected bolt of desire runs through him, he snuggles in even closer. Cas’s body is a lot thicker than it used to be. His arms are bigger, shoulders wider, chest broader, and he wants to relearn every inch with his hands and mouth. He can’t, not yet, but hopefully some day. Rolling his eyes at himself for getting worked up enough that he’s suddenly feeling a little warm, he kicks the blankets off of his feet, and the steady rise and fall of Castiel’s breathing combined with Cas’s joyful aroma lulls him to sleep quickly.

The second time his alarm goes off, Cas is already groaning before he manages to turn it off.

“I’m _fine,”_ Cas grumbles, pulling Dean right back against him as soon as the alarm stops. “Tell me that’s the last time you’re going to wake me up to check on me.”

“Fine,” Dean echoes, rolling onto his side so Cas can snuggle up behind him again since his face is still too warm. “If you die, it ain’t on me.”

“Deal,” Cas slurs, nuzzling into his neck and drawing a sound of happiness from him. Seconds later though, he feels like he’s hit with a wall of hot air.

“‘s it hot in here?” Dean wonders.

“Mmmm. You feel warm but I’m okay,” Cas answers, still basically attached to his neck. Every time he feels those soft lips against his scent gland he has to resist the urge to wiggle back against the alpha behind him. “Want me to turn down the heat a little bit?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He probably just needs to get used to sharing body heat in a bed under the covers again. He pushes them off of him entirely and is a hell of a lot more comfortable almost right away.

He feels additional warmth run through him when Cas draws in another deep breath. “Still the sweetest thing I’ve ever smelled.”

Dean aches for Cas to really scent him, but is more than happy to fall back asleep with Cas’s nose pressed to his neck the same way they did so many times in the past.

The first thing Dean’s aware of when he wakes up in the morning is that he is absolutely soaked. His face is stuck to his pillow with sweat, his shirt clings to his skin, and his pants are damp between his legs.

The next thing he’s aware of is the cramps in his stomach, and the third thing he’s aware of is the way his hips are rolling his ass directly back into Cas’s morning wood and how fucking amazing it feels.

As all of the puzzle pieces click into place, he curses, “Fuck,” under his breath and tries to squirm away a little.

Immediately, Cas scoots forwards and pulls Dean back against him, moaning low and rough when his dick slots right back along his asscrack. Cas is clumsily inching his nose towards his scent gland and his moan rumbles low in his throat after he finds it and takes in a long breath. Even just that has Dean’s ass clenching as he produces more slick, and god, his hole is already _aching_ to be filled.

Just knowing that Cas is here, that his alpha is here in his bed, hard and ready to knot him when he’s going into heat has his breath coming out in sharp, shallow breaths, and additional sweat beading on his forehead.

He wants - jesus fuck does he _want -_ but he’s also (just) lucid enough right now to know this could fuck shit up with Cas before it even starts again. His inner omega tries to drown out those thoughts with a painful bout of cramps, and though he grits his teeth, he can’t quite keep the high note of pain completely buried.

“Dean?” Cas says, sounding concerned as he pushes up to lean on his elbow. “Are you -” Dean can tell the exact moment Cas figures out what’s going on because though he scents the air greedily, he pushes himself back and away from Dean with wide eyes quickly turning dark. Dean whimpers and a single, strong hand clamps down on his hip, caressing his skin and erasing some of his distress. “You’re going into heat,” Cas declares, his sleep-rough voice downright gritty with what Dean can only assume is desire.

“I’m - I’m not due yet,” Dean manages to pant out. “I just - like a month ago.”

“You smell absolutely delectable, Dean,” Cas breathes. “I should have realized why you smelled so sweet last night.” Dean whimpers again, turning his head to the side to bare his neck for Cas. Cas’s fingers tighten on his hip, digging into his flesh. “Don’t,” Cas says hoarsely.

“Cas,” Dean whines, already past the point of pride and ready and willing to beg.

“No,” Cas says firmly. “You’re in heat. You don’t know what you want.”

Dean fumes at that even as another wave of cramps overtake him and he rolls onto his stomach, his now rock hard dick finding friction on the mattress beneath him. He groans, his eyes squeezed closed as he waits for it to pass, and the second he can think again he says, “Never... never asked another alpha... to knot me. Even in fucking heat.”

“What?” Cas asks, sounding like he doesn’t believe him. “No,” he decides. “That’s impossible.”

“Never,” Dean promises, turning his face so he can look at Cas. “Need your knot, Cas, please. It... _fuck,_ it hurts so damn bad already,” he admits. “I can’t.”

“My sweet Dean,” Cas whispers, reaching out to run a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “I know how badly your body’s telling you that you need me because I’m here, but if what you’re saying is true, you’ve made it through heats alone before. You’re so strong. I know you can do this.”

Dean’s eyelids droop as he accepts that Cas isn’t going to touch him. The sting of rejection is sharp and he feels the prickling of tears burning behind his eyes. His stomach hurts _so bad_ and if Cas would just take pity on him and fuck him even once it would go away for a little while and they could talk this through. He just needs his knot so bad -

“A knot,” Dean murmurs as it comes to him. He’s already struggling to get into a sitting position, his slick making his pants stick to his ass as he gets to his feet as he starts stumbling towards the door. “In my bag. In the trunk.”

“You have a fake knot in the trunk of your car? In a bag?” Castiel repeats for him.

Dean nods, taking another step. “Backpack.” He whines, high-pitched and needy as Castiel’s strong hands settle on his shoulders to turn him around. He bares his neck again, urging his heat pheromones to do what they’re supposed to do and entice Cas enough to take him right here and now. “Cas, please,” Dean begs, looking straight into his eyes.

Castiel’s eyes flash alpha red and his inner omega preens, knowing Cas is losing control over the alpha. “You don’t know how much I want to, Dean,” Cas admits quietly. “How many times I’ve dreamed of you and how sweet you smell, and still, it’s so much better than I remember. But I won’t take you like this. Not when you don’t know -”

“I know what I want!” Dean growls, interrupting him. That burst of energy comes to an abrupt halt as more intense cramps hit him and his knees give out.

Cas is there though, and he scoops him up into a bridal carry as easily as he did when he was 17, and Dean unabashedly scents along Cas’s neck as Cas takes the few steps back to the bed. He can smell the way Cas’s scent heats up, that mouth watering blueberry muffin smell that brings back countless memories of making love with his alpha, of milking his knot, of falling asleep sated and tied together.

“Fuck,” Dean groans, curling his fingers in Castiel’s hair and holding him in place to breathe him in again and again, his slick absolutely _dripping_ out of his way too empty hole. “Knot me, Cas. Need your knot, alpha. Please.”

Cas lies him down gently on the bed and cups his face, forcing eye contact as he drops his forehead onto Dean’s. “I’m going to go get your knot from the trunk. And I’m going to stand right outside the door while you work yourself on it and listen to all those pretty noises I know you can make for me, okay?”

Dean’s eyes close on another whimper from the picture he’s painting him. “Yes, alpha,” Dean says, his voice already stronger with the desire to be exactly what Cas wants him to be.

“So good for me, Dean,” Cas says quietly, brushing his fingers along his swollen scent gland before he straightens up. Dean’s eyes are immediately drawn to the way his pajama pants are tented obscenely in front of him, and jesus christ, what he wouldn’t give to impale himself on that thick alpha cock right now. He makes a move towards him, towards it, but Cas steps away quickly. “I will be right back,” Cas says firmly and reassuringly. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not rejecting you, and I’ll be so pleased with you if you’re right here, just like this when I come back.”

Dean nods eagerly, anxious for the opportunity to please his alpha. He lies there with his eyes closed, grabbing the pillow Cas slept on last night and holding it to his nose so he can still inhale his scent greedily even though he isn’t here anymore. Amazingly, the cramps ease up, and he’s able to catch his breath while he lies in Cas’s bed with his scent working its way through him. He hears Cas’s voice echoing in his head. _I’ll be so pleased with you if you’re right here, just like this, when I come back._ He doesn’t move a muscle, stays entirely still, only focusing on keeping his breathing steady and how good the bedroom smells.

He’s distantly aware of a door opening and closing and he opens his eyes to Cas walking back into the bedroom with his fake knot held in his hand. Cas pauses once he steps inside and Dean doesn’t miss the way he chuffs, clearing his nostrils of his scent, before he starts breathing through his mouth. “I hope you don’t mind me handling this. I know it’s personal but I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to wait to dig it out of your bag yourself.”

Dean nods his okay but otherwise stays completely still, almost vibrating with the need to hear the praise he earned by staying still like Cas asked him to.

Cas crouches down next to the bed and runs his hand through Dean’s hair again, pulling another embarrassing whimper from his throat when he thinks about his scent all over Cas’s hand. “You did so well, Dean. Waiting for me to come back just like I asked you to. I’m very happy with you. Can I ask you to do one more thing for me, Dean?”

Dean nods eagerly, drawing in a deep breath of Castiel’s mouth watering warm blueberry muffin scent.

“Wait for me to close the door before you stuff yourself full with this knot,” Cas asks him, the grit returning to his voice as he speaks.

Dean’s eyelids screw themselves shut tight. “Not - not full. Only _your_ knot fills me up, Cas.” Castiel’s scent spikes, the arousal as obvious as it is tempting, and again, Dean begs. “Don’t go. I feel... better... when you’re here.”

“Dean,” Cas grunts. “I’m sorry but I _can’t._ Even the thought of you fucking yourself with that knot -” He stops himself as a growl spills from his lips. “I can’t control myself.”

Sensing his opportunity, Dean slips his thumbs into the waistband of his borrowed pants and starts pushing them down. Fingers clamp around his wrists like iron and force his arms up and over his head, slamming them into the mattress. He wouldn’t be surprised if slick flooded out of him like a waterfall as his hips jerk up into nothing, absolutely desperate for _anything_ to rut against.

When his dick rubs against the swell of Castiel’s ass, he realizes Cas straddled him to stop him from taking off his pants, and that knowledge is enough to drag another whimper from his lips. He thrusts upwards again, pushing his leaking cock against Cas again and again, and Castiel’s fingers tighten impossibly further on his wrists as he barks, “Dean!”

Dean’s too far gone though, completely taken over by the heat and Castiel’s burning hot blueberry scent. He knows he’s only seconds away from finding his release. He’s wound so tight already that he calls out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as his body tenses impossibly further, and when he feels Cas lower his nose to his neck and those soft lips press chastely but firmly to his scent gland, he comes like a geyser.

“Cas!” he shouts, his omega cock emptying his load into his pants and his ass clenching around nothing. The relief barely lasts seconds and he’s back to grimacing almost immediately. “Knot!” he whines as the pain wholly eclipses the pleasure, tears starting to stream down his face as his body convulses. “Fuck, it hurts. _Ah!”_ he cries. “Hurts so bad. I can’t. _Please._ Knot me.”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel whispers against his skin. “I’ll take care of you, sweet omega.”

Dean nods as his body loosens up. He trusts Cas with his life, he knows he means it when he says that. When he feels Castiel’s fingers curl into the waistband of his pajamas, he’s already pushing them down to his knees so he can spread his legs for his alpha.

“Jesus Christ,” Castiel bites out as Dean’s ass is exposed. “You are stunning, omega. Impossibly perfect. You smell unbelievable.”

“Cas,” Dean pants.

“How open are you?” Cas asks.

“I’m ready, I swear. I swear, alpha, I’m -” But his words cut off entirely when he feels the blunt tip pushing into his slickened hole. He has one, earth-shattering moment of pleasure before he realizes it’s the fake fucking knot and not his alpha pressing into him and new tears spring from his eyes as a wave of disappointment wracks him to his core. “No,” he sobs. “No, I don’t want it.” But his body is betraying him, sucking in the fake knot like his life depends on it, and his spent cock is already refilling to the brim as the toy bottoms out.

Cas curls himself along Dean’s side, his pants the only thing between them as he nuzzles into his neck. The scent of alpha arousal is thick in the air now, and if he closes his eyes he can focus on the feeling of skin to skin. As he feels Cas start to work the knot in and out of his slick channel, he imagines it’s Cas filling him up instead of a toy

“Tell me you’re thinking about me, Dean,” Cas whispers. Dean’s pleasure surges as if he’s been electrified and a strangled sound of agreement is torn out of him as he pictures it in his mind. “Tell me you’re thinking about how much fuller you’d be if this was my cock slamming into you.” He punctuates his words with a hard thrust of the knot that has Dean choking on his name.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Dean is nodding automatically, lost in the idea of his alpha splitting him open. “I was never this rough with you, though, was I?” Dean shakes his head, starting to roll his hips to meet each thrust of the plastic rod half way. “You were so much smaller than me, I was terrified if I really let go I’d hurt you.”

“You’d never,” Dean pants.

“But you’re not so small anymore, are you? Now I could be as rough as I want to be. Show you how much I want you, how you drive me to the edge of insanity with how much I’ve always wanted you.” Cas’s voice is rougher than he’s ever heard it, and it spurs him on to fuck himself faster and faster. Cas picks up his new rhythm without a hitch, spearing the fake knot into him seamlessly. “You’d love it, wouldn’t you? You’d love taking your alpha’s knot fast and hard.” Dean whimpers; hearing Cas call himself _his alpha_ is cranking up his arousal even further. “Are you thinking of me like I asked you to?”

“A-always,” Dean stutters. He howls as Cas changes the angle and nails his prostate dead-on.

“You thought about me while we were apart?” Cas asks in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes!” Dean cries out as the fake knot connects again. “Every time!”

“No other alpha would do, would he Dean? Because you were always meant to be _my mate,”_ Castiel growls. _  
_

“I know,” Dean confesses, tears streaming from his eyes again from a mixture of heartbreak and how hard he needs to come.

“I should have bitten you.”

Those words have him locking up as his second orgasm hits him like a Mack truck, and Cas presses the button to inflate the knot at the perfect moment. He feels Castiel’s teeth scrape against his mating mark as Dean clenches his ass around the knot expanding and cries, _“Do it!”_ as his fingers clench in the sheets beside him.

He feels Cas shuffle behind him, hears and feels a low groan vibrate against his neck, and then the unmistakable scent of alpha cum floods his nostrils.

“Jesus fuck,” Dean curses as a third orgasm is ripped out of him just from the knowledge that Cas was touching himself. His spread legs fall bonelessly onto the bed with the force of it, no longer able to control his limbs as he spills onto his stomach, and when the bed bounces around him he tries to lift his head to see where Cas is going but hears the door click shut instead.

The knot is still imbedded in his ass as his sobs start to shake the bed, and the stink of rotten blueberries wafts in from underneath the door to mix with the scent of rejected omega.

Castiel barely makes it through the bedroom door before he falls to the ground. What the hell did he do? Dean is in heat and vulnerable because of it, and here he is taking advantage of him. He jerked off to the sight of a knot in Dean’s ass - the knot he inserted without permission - and talked dirty to him like some hormone-crazed knothead.

Now he’s in the hallway with his lounge pants covered in cum and Dean’s burnt coffee scent flooding underneath the closed door and making him feel like he’s going to vomit.

He’s so ashamed. He’s a grown man now and he doesn’t even have the excuse of an unexpected rut to fall back on the way he did the last time he lost control with Dean. He should have known better. What on earth had possessed him to act like that? Sure, it’s been more than a decade since he felt arousal the way he just did in his bedroom, but he shouldn’t be controlled by his knot. He’s better than that. Or at least he thought he was. Now Dean’s filled with regret exactly the way he knew he would be if Castiel gave into his instincts and touched him, and even worse than that, Dean’s stuck in his home for however long it’s going to take for his heat to be over, too.

As he sits back onto his ass and leans against the bedroom door, he winces when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. Glancing down at it he can see that his laceration is swollen and angry looking, but thankfully not bleeding. He pulls down the waistband of his pants and checks on that one, too now that he’s thinking of it, and finds that one’s fairing much better. Apparently his head is doing okay, too, because he doesn’t feel any of the pain that was so strong when he fell asleep last night. It’s much more than he deserves.

Running his hands through his hair, he tries to think of what he can do to make this situation with Dean better. He can’t take what just happened back, regardless of how ashamed he is by his actions, but maybe he can help Dean through his heat in other ways. Sex isn’t the only thing Dean’s going to need over the next few days. Thinking back to how he knows Dean used to react when he was in heat, he realizes he should get him some food and water to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated. If his heat starts off as intensely as it used to when he was younger, he’s going to need all the help he can get.

He pushes away the memories of when they were together and he used to have to wait for Dean to be knotted before he could get a bite of food into him, then remembers what he had to do that one heat  _before_ they were together, and tries not to think about what he might have to do to feed him now. Knowing how important it is that Dean doesn’t feel abandoned, he raises his voice so it carries through the closed door.

“Dean? I’m just going to get changed and then I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

“I don’t want anything,” Dean answers, and Castiel’s heart breaks when he hears how his voice is irregularly high-pitched as if he’s been crying.

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” he says, putting as much feeling into it as he can. He hears Dean snort with disbelief and it cracks his heart all over again. “I’m going to make you some breakfast in case you change your mind about eating.”

Dean doesn’t say anything else, so Castiel gets to his feet and fetches himself a new pair of pants from the dryer and a t-shirt to pull on, as well. He’s going to need as much between him and Dean as he can get away with. With that done, he walks into the kitchen and gathers the ingredients for omelettes, making sure to add lots of bacon and ham to make up for the peppers he’s going to force on Dean. His lips quirk when he remembers how much Dean used to protest eating vegetables and he wonders if it’s a habit he ever outgrew. He uses his Keurig to make himself a cup of coffee while he cooks, and by the time both omelettes are ready, his coffee is gone and he’s feeling more like he might be able to handle Dean’s heat with some tact from here on out.

He places both plates onto a wooden tray along with two bottles of water and a few slices of toast, hoping his scent will be able to calm Dean enough to get him to eat. He taps his foot gently against the bedroom door when he reaches it and calls out, “Dean? Is it alright if I come in?”

“Your house,” is the terse reply he gets.

He pushes the door handle down with his wrist and walks into the room, forgetting for a split second to breathe through his mouth and getting hit with the mouthwatering scent of brown sugar and cinnamon, his omega in heat. His jaw drops as he takes in several deep breaths through his mouth, trying in vain to forget how tempting the increased cinnamon smells added to his usual coffee scent.

The closer he gets, though, the more Dean’s scent turns bitter and burnt, and by the time he’s reached his bedside, he can hardly see through the building tears enough to place the tray securely onto the end table.

He falls to his knees next to the bed and forces himself to lift his head to look at Dean. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I know I have no excuse for the way I acted and you are more than within your rights to be as disgusted by me as you obviously are, but I swear to you I won’t lose control like that again.” Dean frowns and Castiel is sure he doesn’t believe him, and while that hurts, he can’t pretend he doesn’t understand Dean’s skepticism. “I just want to take care of you and make sure you eat, drink, and rest as much as you should be while you go through the rest of your heat.”

“You’re an idiot,” Dean replies, turning his face away and angling it up to the ceiling.

Now it’s his turn to frown. “I said I’m sorry, Dean. I know it doesn’t take away what I did, but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I’m not upset because you fucked me with a fake knot,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel blinks, trying to puzzle out what Dean’s obviously not saying. He swallows hard as he comes to the only conceivable conclusion, and bows his head when he says, “I shouldn’t have given into temptation and... took my own pleasure... when you were in a vulnerable state. I apologize.”

Dean huffs out a sarcastic sounding breath. “I’m pissed that you wouldn’t touch me, you dumbass.”

Castiel’s head pops up without his permission. “What?” He notices for the first time that Dean’s still covered in a sheen of sweat and his lips look dry already. He passes him a bottle of water without thinking, and Dean takes it, cracking it open with a twist of his wrist and lifting it to his mouth. Castiel forces himself to look away as Dean’s plush bottom lip presses firmly to the rim of the bottle, but apparently it’s too late for that, because it’s with horror that he feels his erection brush against the side of the bed.

What the hell is the matter with him?

“I was begging you to knot me, to bite me, and you wouldn’t even touch me. You said I’m your mate and then you got off and fucking left.”

Castiel’s eyes go wide with understanding and shock. “You’re in heat!”

“And I told you I know what I want!” Dean says back sharply. “And you still wouldn’t touch me.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” Castiel explains.

“You think being with me ain’t right?”

Castiel grinds his teeth together for a moment to try to get a grip on his quickly building temper. “Don’t twist my words around. You know that’s not what I said.”

“That’s what it feels like.”

“If you care so much about being with me then maybe you shouldn’t have left me without a word twelve years ago,” Castiel says angrily. The second the words are out of his mouth he winces, wishing he could take the venom behind them away.

“Like I had a fucking choice,” Dean says back just as fiercely. “Like I _ever_ would’ve left you if I had a choice. As if you don’t already know that.”

Castiel’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest. Twelve years he’s been waiting for this conversation and he’s finally about to get an answer to the question that’s been tearing him up every day since he woke up without Dean next to him.

“Why didn’t you call? I would have come to you, Dean! There isn’t anywhere I wouldn’t have followed you.”

Dean’s shoulders are heaving with a mix of anger and the hurt Castiel can smell rolling off of him. “I wasn’t allowed to bring my phone and I couldn’t remember your number without it. We always texted or I just hit speed dial, I didn’t know your number by heart. If you have any idea how many times I’ve wished I could go back and memorize it...”

Castiel blinks away the moisture that’s gathered in his eyes as that sinks in. Such a simple thing, not knowing a phone number, kept them apart all this time? No, that doesn’t make sense. Back then, maybe, but since then? Why didn’t he look up his home number in the phone book? Why didn’t he email or write or send a telegram for Heaven’s sake?

He’s just about to ask when Dean’s teeth clench together and he grits out, _“Fuck.”_

Knowing it’s likely the beginning of another wave of heat, Castiel pushes everything else aside and passes him his plate. “You need to eat some of this while you can. It’s a ham, cheese, and bacon omelette.”

Dean reaches for the plate and cuts off a bite with his fork. Immediately, his eyes flick up to Castiel’s and the look of annoyance all over his face causes Castiel’s lips to quirk into a smile. “Really? _Peppers?”_ Dean sneers.

“They’re good for you and you’ll hardly even taste them with all the meat I put in there for you.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Dean complains, but he does take the bite. He shovels several bites in before he glances at Castiel again, and talking with his mouth still full, he pointedly says, “Eating alone is kinda weird, ya know.”

Castiel flies into action, grabbing his own plate and digging in right where he is on the floor in case Dean decides to stop until he does. He hears a few sharp inhales from Dean, sees him wince as wave after wave of heat cramps hit him, but he finishes his omelette and his bottle of water before Castiel does.

“Thanks,” Dean says.

Castiel isn’t finished yet, but he puts both of their plates back on the tray anyway. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Besides the obvious, I could, uh, use something to clean up a bit with. I’m kinda a mess of bodily fluids.”

As if Castiel can’t smell the tantalizing mixture of cum and slick all over him and his sheets. “Of course, I should have thought about that. I’ll get you a cloth.”

He tries to hide his persistent erection that he’s pretty sure will be a permanent fixture while Dean smells the way he does, but he feels Dean’s eyes on him as he walks away and doesn’t miss the way his scent spikes with cinnamon again. He tries to ignore it while he gets a warm, damp cloth for Dean, and walks back into the room to see Dean’s fingers clenched in the bed sheets and his head thrown back in what seems to be pain.

“Here you go, Dean,” Castiel says, carefully turning his back as Dean stuffs the cloth beneath the blanket to wipe himself up. “I should give you some privacy.”

“No,” Dean grits out. “I’m done, okay? Don’t leave again.”

“Dean,” Castiel says sadly, turning back to face him. _“I can’t._ I can’t resist you when you smell this sweet. You know that.”

“How many -” Dean grimaces again, bowing his back as his hips come right up off of the bed. “How many damn times do I have to tell you I don’t _want you_ to resist?”

Castiel swallows hard as his dick twitches where it’s trapped in his sweatpants. “You don’t -”

“I swear to god if you say I don’t know what I want one more time I’m going to kill you with my bare hands and _then_ ride your knot.”

Despite Dean’s obvious anger and the crude subject matter, he laughs. “I had no idea you were into necrophilia.”

He feels satisfaction spark inside of him when Dean’s lips quirk into a reluctant smile. “I hate you.”

Castiel’s heart fills so fast it’s staggering. “I missed you so much,” Castiel hears himself admit.

“Every fucking day,” Dean agrees quietly. “Stay with me, Cas. Don’t make me beg again, it’s humiliating.”

Castiel squeezes his eyes closed, trying to find the strength to deny his omega asking for him. “I’m not going to knot you.”

Dean growls, low and angry. “Fucking fine,” he snarls. “Just hold me and let me scent you.”

“Promise me you won’t hate me later if I stay now,” Castiel begs him.

“I’m gonna hate you if you don’t,” Dean answers, but though he’s obviously in pain, he shoots him a smile to let him know he’s not totally serious. “I’m never gonna regret being with you, so stop being so annoyingly _alpha_ and thinking you know what’s right for me more than I do.”

Castiel doesn’t want to be that alpha anymore than he wants to be the alpha who gives into an omega in heat, he just hopes desperately he can find the balance between being here for Dean and not taking advantage of him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

“Buried six inches deep in my ass would be fucking fantastic,” Dean answers without even missing a beat, and Castiel somehow manages to choke on his own spit at the mental image _that_ provides him with. “But since I can’t have what I really want, I’ll take you leaned back against the headboard with your arms wrapped around me.”

Castiel clears his throat and looks down at his erection pointedly. “There’s going to be a slight problem with that position.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to deal with a little bit of friction,” Dean says, smiling wolfishly.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“I thought we just established I was into that,” Dean jokes, and Castiel is chuckling while he gets into the position Dean asked him to.

His eyes go as wide as saucers when Dean whips off the blanket and he realizes Dean wasn’t wearing anything underneath this whole time. He’s sure he’s about to have a stroke two seconds later when Dean climbs into his lap completely naked and runs his nose along his scent gland.

 _“Fuck me,_ you smell good, alpha.”

“Uhm,” Castiel manages to spit out, afraid if Dean so much as looks at him the right way he’s going to blow his load in his pants for the second time this morning.

“Be a pal and hold the fake knot for me, Cas,” Dean says teasingly, his breath hot on Castiel’s neck.

Castiel fumbles blindly in the blankets until he finds it. “Wh-where do you want me to hold it?”

“Hmmm.” Dean’s low voice sends tremors along his skin. “On second thought, if you squeeze it real tight between your thighs I can still have your hands on my hips while I ride that knot until I come all over you.”

“Holy shit,” Castiel pants.

“Thought you wanted to help?” Dean taunts him.

“I also want to survive,” he manages.

He feels Dean’s lips travel up the column of his throat until they’re hovering over the shell of his ear. “You didn’t think I was gonna make it easy on you, did you alpha?”

“Dean,” Castiel chastises him.

“Better get that knot in place, Cas, ‘cause I’m about to sink down on the first thing I find and only one of us cares what it is.”

He doesn’t even bother with a response as he fumbles to shove the knot between his legs and scoots down a little bit so that there’s enough space between the fake knot and his very real, very quickly forming knot to make sure that Dean won’t rub against him every time he moves.

Dean lifts his hips and blindly lines himself up until Castiel can feel the pressure on the fake knot, causing him to squeeze his legs together more firmly.

“Fuck yes,” Dean sighs. Despite his better judgement, Castiel lowers his eyes to watch as Dean’s eager ass swallows up the fake knot inch by glorious inch. Watching Dean take it so easily has his jaw dropping as arousal surges through him.

“You look incredible,” Castiel tells him reverently. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to see you like this.”

“Still wishing it was you, alpha.”

“That makes two of us,” Castiel confesses quietly.

“Fuck,” Dean exhales, steadying himself on Castiel’s shoulders as he bottoms out. Now face to face, Castiel takes in the sight of Dean’s flushed cheeks and the way his teeth are digging into his lower lip with ardent precision.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean,” he gushes.

“Touch me,” Dean begs him, his darkened green eyes locking with Castiel’s.

Castiel’s hands are on his hips in an instant, fingers caressing the supple flesh of his curvaceous hips with one worshiping sweep after another. Dean’s skin is so soft, so warm, so heavenly he can hardly take in the perfection of the scant inches he allows himself to touch. The sight of his fingers so large against Dean’s freckled skin brings back memories of how obscene it used to look when he opened Dean up with them so long ago and he can’t possibly control the growl that rattles out of his throat.

Dean’s hands work their way around the back of his neck and his fingers cord through Castiel’s hair, angling his head up so that he’s forced to look at Dean’s frankly perfect face and the look of rapture all over it as he closes his eyes and starts to undulate his hips.

“Mmm you feel good, alpha,” Dean moans as he works himself on the knot. Even knowing logically that it isn’t his knot getting worked over by Dean, the words cause renewed arousal to course through his veins and his cock to throb where it stands tall between his legs. “Smell so good.” Dean’s eyes open and focus on him again before another moan spills from him. “So fucking hot.” Dean’s eyes drift down his chest to land on the tent in his pants and he whimpers. “So hard for me. _Fuck_ I want you, Cas.”

Castiel’s fingers squeeze tight on Dean’s hips, drawing a gasp from those perfect, plush lips he wants to hear again and again.

“Fun fact,” Dean says suddenly, bringing Castiel back to himself slightly. “Even during my heat, I can’t come on just a knot.”

Castiel shakes his head, fighting for enough clarity to voice his confusion. “Earlier this morning -”

“Unless I’m with you,” Dean interrupts him. “I’ve had - _fuck -”_ he chokes out, and Castiel’s familiar enough with the sound to know he just found his own prostate with the toy. “Mmm, yeah,” he moans, fucking himself the way Castiel wishes he was. “All those heats over the last twelve years and I couldn’t come without a hand on my dick one damn time. Then I see you, get thrown into an early heat, and come twice without even touching myself. What do you think that means, Cas?”

“You know what it means,” Castiel says quietly, fighting for control.

“I’m yours, yeah,” Dean answers for him, the simple admission causing Castiel’s blood to boil. “I’m still your omega and you’re still my alpha.”

“Yes,” Castiel agrees, completely mindless from hearing Dean say that when lust and happiness is mixing together in both of their scents. The combination of blueberry and coffee wafts through the air and sinks into him, the way it was always meant to be.

Dean leans forwards until their foreheads are touching, the sweet scent of his sweat clouding his brain even further. “Kiss me, Cas. Please. If you’re not gonna knot me, _please_ just -”

Their mouths come together for the first time in twelve years in a desperate crash of lips that immediately widen for the other’s. Castiel’s tongue delves into Dean’s waiting mouth, feeling like another moment without his omega’s unique taste will kill him, alternating between licking inside and pulling back to nip at Dean’s sinfully pouty lips. It’s a hungry kiss that has flames of desire licking at his skin and feels like coming home at the same time.

Dean’s fingers curl in his hair, holding him in place as he ravages Dean’s mouth frantically, pouring every ounce of the madness he can’t allow himself to give into any other way directly into this kiss. Fireworks explode behind his closed eyelids, the alpha trapped within him roaring in triumph as he finally gets a taste of his beloved omega, and Castiel himself feels complete in a way he hasn’t felt in so long he almost doesn’t recognize it.

He moans as he feels Dean’s slick soak right through his cotton pants as Dean bottoms out yet again, and at almost the exact same moment, Dean jerks in his hands as hot fluid spills onto his stomach. Castiel bites down on Dean’s bottom lip and tugs as he inhales the alluring scent of his omega’s release.

Dean mutters, _“Knot,”_ against his mouth, which is almost lost because of the low growl clawing itself out of Castiel.

He scrambles to get his hand between them, outright groaning when he feels Dean’s slick hot and wet on the back of his hand, and hits the button to inflate the toy’s knot.

Dean calls out with a garbled sound filled with vowels, and Castiel takes ahold of the base of the toy and fucks him with it in short, shallow thrusts, the very same way he’d give absolutely anything to be moving locked inside of him right now.

“Cas!” Dean calls out, and Castiel feels it as Dean’s muscles begin tensing again.

Wanting to give him as much pleasure as he possibly can, he asks, “Gonna milk my knot, omega?”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Dean pants, ducking his head as he releases another load all over Castiel’s shirt.

Castiel moves in to lower his mouth to Dean’s scent gland, sucking on the single most potent square inch of skin on Dean’s body, drinking in the way the cinnamon and brown sugar scent flares almost sickenly sweet as he applies the barest hint of teeth. Every instinct he possesses is _screaming_ at him to bite down for real, to clamp his teeth into _his omega’s_ neck and claim him so everybody can see who he belongs to, how even after all these years apart Dean is still _his._ He can feel Dean’s pulse throbbing lightning fast beneath his supple skin and Castiel’s mouth fills with saliva, preparing to ease the way for his canines to cut through his flesh.

His entire world narrows down to Dean’s scent wrapping around him like a blanket, the sound of Dean’s pulse, and the way he’s begging him, “Bite me, bite me, fucking _please,_ mate me, alpha.”

He feels the wild beast inside of him screaming to be left free, and he _just_ manages to move his mouth a half an inch away from his scent gland before he loses control entirely and bites him. It isn’t what his alpha wants, it isn’t a mating mark, but it’s still a claim and he feels his cock jerk as he comes completely untouched and still sheathed inside his pants. He moans as his tongue laps at the few drops of blood spilling from Dean’s neck, the sweet but coppery taste so uniquely Dean and unlike anything he’s ever tasted that he sucks _hard,_ frantic for more. He only gets it for a moment before Dean rips at his hair and fuses their mouths together again, still riding the knot in his ass like every alpha’s wet dream as he sucks on Castiel’s tongue as if he’s trying to pull it right out of his mouth.

Giving into the alpha urge to dominate that pulses through him, Castiel surges upwards, knocking Dean flat onto his back on the mattress. He covers his naked body with every inch of his own, cursing the clothes between them as he presses him hard into the mattress and grinds his still half-hard erection and bulging knot directly against Dean’s rock hard cock.

His dick is coming back to life with a refractory period he hasn’t experienced in the last decade, and when Dean’s hands slip up the back of his shirt to grasp at his bare skin, he’s suddenly impossibly only seconds from losing it again.

Dean’s legs lock around his waist with a garbled, _“Fuck yes,”_ as the omega thrusts up against him and pulls him by his hair once more, forcing Castiel’s mouth back down to his neck where he’s happy to oblige him by nipping and licking at the swollen bite mark.

Dean lifts his hips, and Castiel’s cock still trapped in his sweatpants slots along Dean’s soaking wet opening, the fake knot still sticking out of him. Castiel fumbles for the button, presses it to make it deflate, pulls it out, and grinds himself as firmly as possible against Dean’s now empty hole all in one fluid moment. The cotton of his pants is soaked with a mixture of his own cum and Dean’s slick and it only takes he and Dean a handful of thrusts against one another with that single layer of fabric between them for both alpha and omega to find release together.

Dean’s cum shoots against Castiel’s bare stomach since Dean has his shirt rucked up, triggering Castiel’s orgasm and causing him to spill another surprisingly huge load into his pants, nestled so closely to Dean’s hole that he can feel the new warm flow of slick as his ass clenches around nothing, trying to milk him the way they both want so badly.

His knot is still throbbing, searching for the perfect stimulation only Dean’s willing hole can give him, but he’s too busy drowning in the flood of happy, sated pheromones from Dean (who is currently so pliant beneath him he wouldn’t be surprised if he melted into the mattress completely) to consider giving in.

“My sweet omega,” Castiel murmurs against his skin.

“My alpha,” Dean answers, petting lovingly through his hair. “I missed you. Missed you so much. Kiss me, Cas.”

Castiel does, his mouth open and wet as he travels up his neck and along his jaw until Dean turns his head to meet his lips. This kiss is nothing like their last few. This is slow and deep, his fingers splaying wide but tenderly over Dean’s gorgeous face, their tongues sweetly caressing each other as their lips move in a dance so practiced even years apart doesn’t cause them to stumble.

When they finally pull apart, it’s only to breathe, and even still, Dean pushes up to kiss him again, chaste but lingering. When Dean’s head falls back and hits the pillow, Castiel notices Dean’s eyes seem to be struggling to stay open, and Castiel gives in to the urge to kiss both eyelids, one at a time. Then he kisses his cheeks, chin, and nose, and finally his lips, which are now turned up into a breathtaking smile.

“Sleep, coffee bean,” Castiel urges him.

The old endearment slipped out without his permission, and his heart is lodged in his throat with fear until a breathless laugh is pulled out of Dean along with a burst of happy pheromones. Castiel is overcome with the love he still feels for this man after all this time when he sees that beautiful flush on his face again as Dean pushes him away just enough so that he can turn onto his side. Dean immediately presses his body up against his, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle the way they always have, and noses his way to his neck.

“Don’t leave this time,” Dean asks quietly.

“Never again,” Castiel answers, pulling him in even closer. Just like the night before, he’s lulled into sleep by the peaceful scent of his omega safe and happy in his arms exactly where he belongs.


	5. Chapter 5

**_2007_ **

Castiel hasn’t been able to stop smiling since his date with Dean. Though it started off a little rough with him picking the wrong place to take this particular man, the rest of the evening went better than he could have imagined. Just listening to Dean talk about himself with that endearing self-deprecating sense of humor, completely unaware of how truly spectacular he is in every way, was enough to have him smitten by the end of dinner. By the sounds of things (and admittedly he is reading between the lines because Dean clammed up every time he asked a direct question) Dean is all but raising Sam, taking care of the house, and going to school every day all on his own. Yes, Sam’s nearly a teenager, but he still requires meals, clean clothes, groceries, help with school, and a myriad of other things Castiel’s sure he’s forgetting, but the point is that Dean is the one who takes care of all of that for his younger brother.

And he thinks it’s no big deal.

Just as he thinks it’s no big deal each and every time he allows Castiel to scent him, hold his hand, or god help him, kiss those tempting plush lips of his. As if he has no idea that with each occurrence he’s giving Castiel everything he’s ever wanted, filling his heart and his mind with foolish dreams about keeping this forever even though he knows he’s most likely a teenage fling for Dean.

He saw Dean three times in the two weeks after their first date. He brought him to the movies once where they held hands in the dark, went to watch Sam’s hockey team play at the arena with Castiel’s arm wrapped around him (for warmth, obviously), and went to Dean’s apartment to watch the Friday night Toronto Maple Leaf game where they ended up curled up together on the couch. Each time they saw each other, Dean bared his neck immediately and they spent several long minutes scenting one another until they were almost drunk on the blueberry coffee scent they make together. Those are some of his favorite moments, just watching Dean give himself over completely without reservations, soothing something deep, deep inside of him. But alternately, every time he’s forced to leave, it feels like the tiny parts of him that were filled up by Dean’s presence begin to empty bit by bit until he feels almost empty without him. Thankfully, Dean has been very vocal about missing him when they spend more than a few days apart, so they’ve fallen into a pattern of seeing each other every other day, if not more.

More often than not he has dinner at home with Gabriel (and his mother, whenever she's around), then he goes to Dean’s apartment for a few hours. Sometimes they watch television, movies, or play video games, and sometimes they go down the street to the outdoor rink and play hockey. Seeing Dean on skates is something else. He knows he’s likely biased with how besotted he is with him at this point, but he’s sure with the right discipline and training Dean could have been a professional hockey player. Even when they’re just horsing around, Dean has such good form and skates literal effortless circles around anybody they play with. To see his cheeks turn rosy with the cold and his eyes bright with the love he has for hockey is a wonder, and it’s no coincidence Castiel asks him to play as often as he can. Dean should always look so happy.

As satisfying as it is to see Dean cut into the ice with a bold confidence that borders on swagger, absolutely nothing is better than when it’s getting late and they’re cuddled together in front of the television with Dean’s body sagging lazily against his own. Dean always smells so intoxicatingly happy when they’re close like that, and even after he leaves, the scent lingers on his skin for days. Furthermore, they fit together flawlessly. Whether Dean’s head is pillowed on his chest, resting on his shoulder, tucked under his chin, or nestled into the crook of his neck, he fits in the grooves of his body the same way he fits in his soul, his mind, and most importantly, in his heart.

Oh, yes. It’s been three weeks now since their first date, and as impossibly fast and juvenile as it may seem, Castiel is undoubtedly falling in love with Dean. He hasn’t said anything, because he knows Dean is still so young and he might not feel the same way about him, but he hopes if he waits long enough Dean will get there, too. Somewhere between their first date and week three, Castiel decided that it didn’t matter how long he would get to stay with Dean, he would care for him as if their time together was indefinite.

He wanted to spoil Dean on Valentine’s Day, but since they had only been dating a few weeks at that point, he settled by having a candy bouquet delivered to his classroom and buying a few heart shaped pizzas for dinner (which included Sam). Dean had kissed him long and hard at the end of the night and told him it was the best Valentine’s Day he ever had and that if he had more nights like tonight, he might actually start looking forward to the corniest day of the year. Castiel had left Dean’s apartment smelling like his boyfriend and feeling like the happiest alpha in the world.

It’s the beginning of March when he and Dean have their first argument, after which he comes home to find his mother’s car parked in the garage. He sighs heavily and walks into the house, finding her perched with her spine perfectly straight in the sitting room, by all accounts, waiting for him.

She greets him with, “Good evening, Castiel.”

“Hello, mother,” Castiel replies. “I didn’t realize you were returning home this evening.”

“It was supposed to be in the morning but I suddenly craved a night in my own bed. Where are you coming home from tonight?”

“I was spending time with my boyfriend.”

She purses her lips. “And who might that be?”

“Dean Winchester. He’s a senior in high school.”

“A bit young for you then, isn’t he?”

Castiel wants to shrug but instead keeps carefully still, knowing his mother prefers formality at all times. “25 and 30 won’t seem like such a big age gap some day.”

She closes the book that was lying in her lap. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since January.”

“I’d like for you to bring him around for dinner at his earliest convenience.”

“I’ll try to arrange something. Anything else?”

“That’s all,” she says, dismissing him by opening her book again and picking up where she left off.

As he walks through the hallway and up the staircase towards his bedroom, he sees Gabriel’s door open down the hall. They’ve been spending more time together lately because of Dean and Sam, and he’s picked up on Gabriel leaving his door open as a silent request for conversation. Wondering if Gabriel knows anything about how long their mother will be home, he walks that way and raps his knuckles on the door frame lightly to get Gabriel’s attention.

“Hey Cassie,” Gabriel says, looking up from his desk. “Get the third degree from mother dearest?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Castiel replies. “And you?”

“She said she was 'so pleased' she only received a single phone call from the school while she was away this time,” Gabriel tells him, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Congratulations.” His lips are twitching though, because their mother might not know that Gabriel changed his contact information to Castiel’s cell phone number, but he certainly does, and there has definitely been more than a single phone call. “What are you working on?”

“Science,” he says with an eye roll. “I got a question for you, though. Unrelated to the school work.”

“I’m appropriately braced,” Castiel says, getting an impish smile from his little brother.

“Can I have a couple of my friends sleep over for my birthday?”

“Yes.” Gabriel’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “With a few conditions.”

“Hit me,” Gabriel urges him.

“No females and five kids max. And they all leave the next day before noon. No alcohol or drugs.”

“Jeez, what kind birthday parties were _you_ going to when you were 13?” Gabriel asks, his eyes wide.

“Absolutely none,” Castiel admits. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeppers. How was Dean-o? You look tense, even for you.”

“As exceptional as always,” Castiel lies, already on the way back to his bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 _Six weeks,_ he thinks to himself as he walks through the hallways. One argument shouldn’t bring him down so much when he’s had six weeks with Dean bursting with the kind of happiness everyone dreams of finding but never really expects to stumble into. Six weeks of coffee, brown sugar, and cinnamon filling his nostrils, and bright green eyes, adorable freckles, and the sound of Dean’s laugh filling his heart. Six weeks full of hand holding, Dean in his arms, kisses that take his breath away, and the increasingly frequent urge to pin Dean to the nearest flat surface and knot him until they’re tied together in every way possible.

But he hasn’t.

Of course he hasn’t.

Admittedly, he masturbates a lot more than he used to, and he also has to withstand an omega who smells like his own personal aphrodisiac who is every bit as horny as he is (likely more so if he thinks back to his own insatiable hormones at seventeen) and frustrated with Castiel’s lack of willingness to fuck like bunnies.

Their argument tonight had actually been because of that, of all things. He and Dean were watching hockey with Sam in the next room and Dean had climbed into Castiel’s lap and began kissing him breathless. At first, he went with it, overwhelmed by Dean’s sweetening scent and the way his tiny but curvaceous hips and bubble butt created the most delicious friction on his lap, but once he remembered Sam was in the house and could interrupt at any moment he had forced Dean to stop.

 _Forced_ is the operative word here, because Dean was hell-bent on finishing what he started, and Castiel actually had to flee the apartment and run to his car to keep himself away from Dean’s enticing scent until they both calmed down enough to try to talk. They’d both been annoyed and upset with the other afterwards, and though Dean standing outside his car pouting had almost been his undoing, he had stood his ground and explained why having Sam in the house was a line he wouldn’t cross. Dean had also stood _his_ ground and told Castiel that he wasn’t satisfied with Castiel’s snail pace in the proverbial bedroom. (Castiel knew better than to _ever_ go into a bedroom alone with Dean.)

After Castiel admitted he wasn’t ready for sex yet, Dean reminded him (rather crudely) that he could still suck his dick without sex, and they had come to an agreement to utilize their time alone better, but only when they were truly alone. Though it seemed like they worked everything out as much as they could before he left, he still feels unsettled and wishes he didn’t have to leave at all. Now, with Gabriel asking about his birthday, Castiel has an excuse to call him even though he just left less than a half hour ago.

Dean’s voice sounds quiet and nervous when he answers his phone. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean. Are you alright?”

“‘S’long as you’re not calling to break up with me, yeah,” Dean says, and though Castiel can tell it’s meant to come across as a joke, it doesn’t quite hit the mark.

“Then you’re fine, because I’m absolutely not breaking up with you. The thought never even crossed my mind,” Castiel reassures him.

“Well, good,” Dean answers, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “What’s up then? Miss me already?”

“While that’s true, I was calling to warn you that I suspect Sam will be getting a phone call from Gabriel any moment now asking him to come to a sleepover for his birthday the first weekend in April.”

To his surprise, Dean grunts out, “I always hated sleepovers.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Probably ‘cause of guys like your jerk brother. I was always the new kid since we moved around so much, so I was afraid of being the first one to fall asleep and having some dickwad put my hand in water to make me piss myself.”

Castiel blinks in confusion. “Is that a common occurrence at sleepovers?”

“Well I went to two and saw two guys piss themselves, so I’m gonna have to go with yes.”

“I’ll have to warn the maid,” Castiel says seriously, which gets a snort from Dean. “I was wondering - no pressure, of course - since my mother won’t be home and I’ll be in charge of keeping five 13 year olds alive, if you might be comfortable spending the night here with me as well? With no expectations, of course, and I’m happy to have a spare room set up for you if you’re not comfortable -”

“Hey, Cas? Take a breath, alpha, I can smell your nerves from here,” Dean says teasingly. “Even if you were asking me to come over to spend the night so you could knot me all night long, I’d still say yes.”

Arousal flashes through him so fast it’s almost staggering. “Are you aware of how completely unhelpful that is?” Castiel asks him dryly, eliciting a trail of laughter from Dean that reluctantly transforms his irritation into a smile.

“Yup,” Dean finally answers.

“Is that a yes to how unhelpful you are or a yes to spending the night with me?”

“Both.”

Castiel smiles happily. “I’ll admit, the idea of having you in my arms and in my bed while we sleep is incredibly appealing. I’m sure your scent will linger for weeks.”

“Now that you mention it, we should really come stay at my house instead,” Dean tries.

“If you behave yourself, perhaps the weekend after.” It’s not as if Gabriel can’t survive a night on his own, and as an adult, he’s free to sleep wherever he pleases.

“You’re actually blackmailing me to keep it in my pants?” Dean asks indignantly.

“I believe I’m blackmailing you to ensure you don’t make it impossible for me to keep it in my pants,” Castiel counters, which gets a bark of laughter from his omega. “In all sincerity, Dean, I would very much like to sleep with you in my bed without you being angry at me for not knotting you.”

“Sure, Cas, that’s no problem.”

Suspicious of Dean’s quick answer, Castiel asks, “Really?”

“Yeah, just knot me before we fall asleep.”

“Jesus Dean,” Castiel huffs.

“I’m joking, relax,” Dean waves away. “I still wouldn’t say no, but listen. Whatever night we’re doing the sleepover thing, we’ll take knotting completely off the table, okay? I’m not gonna ask, you’re not gonna offer. It’s just not happening, then we won’t fight about it.”

“That sounds extremely reasonable, thank you.”

“That’s my middle name,” Dean says, and Castiel can hear the smile on his face as he lies through his teeth. Dean isn’t reasonable by any stretch of the imagination, but Castiel wouldn’t have it any other way. “So what do a couple of poor kids get a 13-year-old _Milton_ for his birthday?”

“We’ll come up with something together,” Castiel promises.

Twenty minutes later when he ends their call, he feels much more steady than when it began, and with the idea of Dean curled up against him overnight, he gets ready for bed and falls asleep thinking about how nice it will be.

Dean glances around at the dozen or so people scattered throughout the living room and spilling into the kitchen. There’s some god awful excuse for music blaring from somebody’s iPod dock and Dean’s currently nursing his second beer while checking the clock. He really, _really_ doesn’t want to be here right now, but when his three closest friends started talking shit about how he never hangs out with them anymore because of Cas, he felt bad and promised to come to this stupid party.

What he really wanted to say was that if they had an alpha like Cas waiting for them then they wouldn’t want to be at a party full of people looking to get laid either, but for once in his life he bit his tongue, and now he’s stuck here on an uncomfortable love seat by himself while he and his friends play _Never Have I Ever._

“Bottoms up, Winchester,” Jo tells him, waiting for him to bring the little paper cup to his lips before she does the same. He swallows down the jiggly substance and immediately grimaces and gags at the taste.

“Ugh, tasted like pure vodka,” he complains. Jo nods her head in agreement while making the same faces he’s sure he is.

“Okay, my turn!” Charlie exclaims. “Never have I ever fantasized about a fictional character.”

Dean sighs as he reaches for another shot, and hears a knowing round of laughter from the few people who have gathered. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not ashamed about finding Dr. Sexy sexy, so you can all bite me,” he chuckles, knocking back another shot with a wince.

He’s only got another half hour until Cas will be here to pick him up and he’s trying not to be too obvious about counting down the minutes. It’s been six weeks since they had their first date, and they’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since. Cas is there after dinner every night he doesn’t have to work and Dean doesn’t know what he’d do without him now. They go out sometimes to see a movie or have dinner, but most of the time they hang out with Sam and Gabriel, playing hockey at the outdoor rink, going to watch Sam’s games, or watching the Leafs on TV. His favorite times are when Sam’s studying or closed up in his room doing god knows what, because then he and Cas have the living room to themselves with nobody watching, and he can snuggle into Cas’s arms and his blueberry/chocolate scent without judgement.

Seeing him several times a week and having permission to scent him whenever he wants hasn’t lessened the pull to his scent gland or the man himself at all. If anything, being with him only makes him want to be with him more, and the nights they don’t get to see each other at all make him feel itchy and wrong now. He didn’t see Cas last night _or_ the night before, and he feels like he’s been jonesing for a hit of his favorite smell and a taste of Cas’s lips all damn day. Plus, he finally gets to hang out at Cas’s place tonight for the first time ever since Sam’s already at Gabriel’s, and he’s anxious to see how swanky his house is.

Oh, and he’s pretty sure he’s in love with the guy. Not like Cas gave him much of a choice, being the best mix of polite, weird, hot, sassy, and smart. He was a goner right from the beginning and he’s not even sorry. He's absolutely positive there isn't a better alpha out there and even though he has no idea what the hell Cas sees in him, he's keeping him for as long as he can have him.

He balks when Lisa pushes another Jello shot into his hand and she arches two perfectly sculpted eyebrows at him. “Don’t even try to tell me you’ve been dating an older alpha for more than a month and haven’t gone all the way,” she giggles.

He hasn’t - hasn’t even come close - but with everybody around him looking at him like he should be taking the shot, he just grins and swallows it down, thinking what they don’t know won’t hurt them. Gagging a third time, he takes a swig of his lukewarm beer to chase the taste away. Five minutes and another two shots later, he says, “I’m done with shots. I’ll drink my beer if we keep going.”

Lisa takes the empty seat next to him while he gets razzed for being a pussy, but he flips them all off easily. They have no idea what it’s like being an omega. Yeah, these people are his friends, but he knows especially with alcohol in the mix, he needs to keep a clear head so he can protect himself if he needs to. Jo and Charlie are both betas, and Lisa and Benny are alphas, which means he’s the only omega of his group. Not surprising considering how rare male omegas are, but that’s why he knows he has to stop drinking. He doesn’t know everybody here, either, and there’s a good chance there are other alphas he doesn't know well enough to trust. Cas will be here soon, but he’s gotta keep his shit together until then.

“Never have I ever participated in a sex act in public,” Jo says.

He gives Lisa a surprised look when she rolls her eyes and knocks back her shot. “What’d you do?” he asks, curious.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teases, and he grins because he _really_ does.

He lowers his voice and leans in a little, batting his eyelashes for good measure. “Come on, Lis, I promise I won’t tell.”

She leans in even further, giving him an unintentional whiff of her sour lemon scent, and whispers into his ear, “I gave road head once.”

Instantly, his mind is thrown into the gutter. He imagines sucking Cas off in that fancy car of his, listening to his alpha trying to keep his cool while Dean licks and sucks at his cock, feeling his knot swelling for him. Then he gets a flash of Cas’s head buried between his legs while he’s behind the wheel of Baby, one hand on the steering wheel and another fisted into his hair. Sex in the Impala has always been a fantasy of his, so the very idea plus the alcohol in his system has his scent sweetening in the air before he can stop it.

Thankfully it’s right around then that the group decides they’re finished with _Never Have I Ever,_ but that’s when Charlie pulls out Twister. Considering they’re all well on their way to drunk, they think it’s a great idea, and they’re quickly reduced to an almost non-stop chorus of laughter as people keep stumbling, losing their balance, and toppling over, bringing others down with them.

He waits his turn to play against Lisa, Jo, and Benny, and it isn’t until he stands up that he realizes just how drunk he really is. The room spins, his head feels way too light, and for whatever reason, he can’t stop snickering.

“Alright, everybody, right foot green,” Charlie calls out. That’s an easy one, so there’s only a few seconds of people fighting over the dots.

He smiles when Lisa catches his gaze. “Like your eyes,” she says, making him snort with laughter. His eyes are nothing like the green on the board, but whatever.

“Left foot red,” Charlie says next. It’s on the opposite side, so Dean stretches his foot that way, huffing with laughter when he _barely_ stops himself from doing the splits. Lisa’s hand clamps down on his shoulder as she dissolves into giggles, and when he looks at her over his shoulder he sees she’s spread out behind him facing the same way, also struggling to stay on her feet.

“If you knock me over I’m taking you down with me,” he threatens her.  

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she giggles, taking her hand off of him and raising it in surrender. “I’m _so_ drunk.” For whatever reason, Dean finds that hilarious, and he’s struggling even more now to stay upwards with how hard he’s laughing.

“Left hand yellow,” Charlie calls out. Everybody pitches forwards at once, and Dean suddenly has a face full of Benny’s ass.

“Oh come on,” he complains as Benny roars with laughter in front of him.

“Best view you’ve had all day, cher,” Benny calls back, but he’s distracted by Lisa squealing behind him.

“Oh my god,” she giggles, and he realizes she has the same view behind her. “This is the closest I’ve ever been to an omega’s ass.”

“You’re welcome,” he quips, his whole body shaking with laughter when he thinks about how ridiculous this must look.

“You so much as look at my ass, Lafitte, and I’ll kick your ass from here to Timbuktu,” Jo threatens.

“Promises, promises,” Benny replies, which has them all laughing and fighting to stay upright.

“Alright, alright,” Charlie announces. “Right hand... blue.”

As his arms cross in front of him, his left foot slips on the mat and he loses his balance, crashing face first into Benny’s ass before he’s knocked back onto his own ass, sending Lisa tumbling down on top of him. They somehow managed to fall face to face, so he doesn’t have to check if she’s okay since he can see the way she’s laughing so hard, and he lets his head fall back onto the mat as he tries to catch his breath. He and Lisa are both shaking with laughter, which only comes to a stop when she pushes herself up to her elbows and her dark hair falls to surround her face.

“Did I crush you?” she asks.

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Nah, you’re not that much bigger than me. The room’s spinning though. Get up so I can get my shit together.”

He gets a fleeting smell of lemon right before he sees her nostrils flare and her face go from soft and laughing to something else between one breath and the next. He feels the first inkling of fear and repeats, “Seriously, get off of me before I yack.”

“You smell so good though,” she replies, the lemon getting stronger and stronger by the second. “You’ve always smelled really good, but now..." She leans in until she’s _way_ too close to his exposed neck and inhales again. “I can smell sugar or candy or something on you. Like slick.”

“Keep your nose to yourself, lady,” Dean says sharply, trying to keep his chin close to his chest so she can't get to his neck. “I was thinking about my boyfriend,” he tells her, pushing against her shoulders to get her off of him. She pushes back, though, and as Dean’s pinned to the mat, he’s officially gone from uncomfortable to scared, and the scent of burnt coffee in the air only increases his own panic. He knows his friends won’t let anything really bad happen to him, but he doesn’t want her to scent him either. That’s personal. Only Cas has ever scented him and that’s the way he wants to keep it.

“Just let me get one good sniff, okay?” she says, bending in even closer.

He can hardly breathe through the thick scent of lemon in the air, feels like he’s choking on it as he tries to force it out of his nostrils, and as her nose gets closer to his neck, he raises his voice to say, “Stop! Don’t fucking scent me!”

He hears a growl a split second before Cas says, “Get off of him _now_ or I’ll lift you off myself.”

“Cas,” Dean gasps, relief flooding him in an instant. Cas would _never_ let anybody else scent him. “Cas, get her off of me.”

Lisa growls in return, and when she turns around to face Cas, still crouching over Dean possessively, Dean pushes her from behind until she topples over and reaches a hand out for Cas. Cas pulls him up by his hand and inserts himself between him and Lisa, who is stumbling to her feet.

“We were just having a good time, weren’t we, Dean?” Lisa asks him.

“Yeah, until you started forcing yourself on me.”

Lisa laughs while she tucks her hair behind her ears. She aims her next comment at Cas. “You can smell the slick on him. You know he wanted it.”

“I was thinking about you,” Dean tells Cas, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

“I don’t care if he was naked and rolling in slick, if he says stop, you stop,” Cas snarls at Lisa.

“I was just going to scent him!” she defends.

“Nobody scents my omega but me.” Castiel’s voice comes out in a fierce growl, and Dean can smell the anger rolling off of him in waves, the dark chocolate more pronounced than ever. Unconsciously, he steps closer to Cas and presses his nose and upper body to his back from behind, trying to get the clinging lemon scent off of his clothing. He can feel the way Cas’s entire body is shaking with rage, and runs his hand down his back comfortingly. Castiel draws him to his side where he stands proudly.

Lisa pops one hip and smiles seductively at Dean. “You know, he didn’t put a mark on you or anything.” Dean glares at her but winds his arm around Cas and feels safe and warm when Cas pulls him closer to his side. “He let you come to this party and drink by yourself without making sure you had someone watching over you to keep you safe, and he didn’t even lay a hand on me to stop me from scenting you when he was standing right there. If you want an alpha who will treat you like you deserve, who will protect you and make sure nothing bad happens to you, I can do that. I would take such good care of you, little omega.”

Cas is growling again but this time it’s Dean who speaks. “I don’t _need_ somebody to take care of me, and if I did, I’d choose _my_ alpha and not your pushy, coddling, gross-ass lemon scent. So thanks but no thanks, and don't call me omega ever again," he adds before he forgets.

She shrugs a shoulder, tosses her hair over it, and says, “Your loss,” before she pins Cas with one more challenging look and strolls away.

Instantly, Dean turns to sag against Castiel’s chest and breathes in deeply, taking in as much of the blueberry/dark chocolate scent as he can while Cas’s arms wrap around him. He feels lips in his hair just before Castiel asks, “Are you alright?”

He’s really not, but he wants to get away from all this before they talk about it. “Can we go?” Dean asks instead of answering him.

“I just - I need a moment, Dean, I’m sorry. All I can smell is another alpha on you and it’s taking all of my control not to rip her to pieces or claim you right here so everybody can see _I’m_ your alpha.”

Being reminded of how incredibly territorial alphas are by nature, he’s floored that Cas was able to defend him without getting all crazy possessive. Even now, Cas says he’s Dean’s alpha, not that Dean is his omega. It’s a small difference, but it puts Dean in the position of power instead of Cas, which is both baffling and sweet.

He likes that Cas doesn’t treat him like property, but at the same time... he kinda wants to belong to Cas. Right now his inner omega is begging to be claimed, to be reminded that he has an alpha who is sweet and kind and hot as fuck.

“Scent me, alpha. I don’t wanna smell like anybody but you. Please, Cas.”

Another growl rumbles in Castiel’s chest as Dean exposes his neck, and then Cas drags his nose across his scent gland several times, wiping away the lingering scent of lemon and pumping the air full of dark chocolate and blueberry. Castiel brushes his fingers through Dean’s hair, over the back of his neck and across both shoulders before they run down his back, over his hips, and slowly drift back up to frame his face. He’s scent marking him everywhere and Dean couldn’t possibly be more on board. Castiel’s hands on him are far from rough, but they’re more insistent than he’s used to, and with the alcohol still working through his system, he feels arousal building hot and fast. He’s _drenched_ in Castiel’s scent but he still needs more.

When Dean lifts his chin, he and Cas meet in the middle for a kiss, his mouth open and waiting for Castiel’s tongue, which sweeps past his lips hot and possessive. Castiel is claiming him with one dirty flick of his tongue after another, and within moments, Dean’s clawing at Cas’s back and trying to pull him closer, completely mindless of the room full of people. He plasters his body to Cas’s, feeling the way they’re both working themselves up to full hardness just from their kisses, and makes a shameless sound of protest as Cas shifts away and puts some space between them.

Dean breaks their kiss and pants the words repeating on a loop. “My alpha.”

“I am your alpha,” Castiel agrees, his voice raspy just the way Dean likes it the most. “But you, my sweet omega, taste like vodka. You’re drunk.”

“Pffft.” Castiel raises his eyebrows and Dean admits, “Okay fine, but only a little.” His brain may be a tiny bit fuzzy, but he doesn’t miss the way his alpha’s lips twitch. “Way too drunk for Twister but not too drunk to make out with my hot alpha boyfriend.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cas says, bending down to catch his lips once more in a lingering kiss that has Dean’s fingers fisting in Castiel’s shirt. Cas ends the kiss, but keeps his lips close enough to Dean’s that he can feel his breath on his skin. “But before I bend you over that rather sturdy looking couch and make a mess out of both of us, I think I better take you home.”

Before he can do anything to convince Cas to do just that, they're interrupted.

“Hey, hey, hey, not so fast, Mr. White Knight.” Dean turns to see Charlie, Jo, and Benny all standing there beside them watching them with smiles on their faces. “Dean, you didn’t introduce us to your boy toy!”

Dean looks up at Cas, expecting him to introduce himself, but instead, Cas defers to him, making him blush and his heart swell. “Oh, uh, this is my boyfriend, Castiel. Cas, these are my friends. Charlie, Jo, and Benny.”

“It’s nice to meet you, though I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. I usually manage to get a word or two out before I start growling like a rabid dog.”

Jo snorts, but Charlie looks at Dean and says, “He’s dreamy.”

Dean looks up at Cas proudly. “Tell me about it.”

“Takes one to know one,” Cas says, kissing him on the nose and making his flush spread all the way to his ears.

"I woulda torn her to shreds if she was on my omega like that," Benny comments. 

Before Cas can reply, Dean proudly states, "Cas isn't like other alphas. He thinks with his brain instead of his knot."

"Thank the gods for that," Charlie says happily. "There are more than enough knotheads out there as it is."

“You sure you don’t wanna stay and hang out? You’re actually old enough to drink, right?” Jo asks.

“That’s true, although it looks like I’m the only one here who can say that,” Cas jokes, and everybody laughs. Cas puts his arm around him and Dean basically swoons when he fits into that little nook under his shoulder just right. “Dean seems to be having a hard time standing up though, which I’m guessing by the bright red tongue and the sweet tooth I know he has is because of Jello shots?”

He didn’t realize the room started spinning again, but now that he tries to focus on Castiel’s face, he realizes he is a little wobbly. “Guilty,” Dean beams, snickering a little bit under his breath when he catches Jo’s eye.

“So I think I had better get him sobered up before I can take him home, but it was nice to put names to faces. Maybe we can all get together another time.”

With that, they all say their goodbyes, and Dean walks out of the party feeling a hell of a lot happier than he did when he got there. Now that he’s walking, though, he notices how the ground is lurching under his feet and he chuckles lightly to himself.

“What’s so funny over there, coffee bean?” Cas asks him, sounding amused.

“Ground’s spinning a little,” Dean admits, which gets a huff of laughter from Cas.

“You lightweight,” Cas teases, wrapping his arm around him more firmly.

“I really wasn’t gonna get drunk. But we played Never Have I Ever and Jo kept giving me those Jello shots all in a row. I think I had five in less than ten minutes. I switched to beer after that and I thought I was okay ‘til I stood up.”

“I thought that little blonde beta smelled like trouble,” Cas says sarcastically.

Dean snickers and leans harder into Cas’s side. “Believe you me, mister, she’s tougher than she looks.”

“You, on the other hand, look so adorable with your rosy cheeks and glassy eyes that I can hardly take my eyes off of you,” Cas tells him, kissing his temple again. “You were easily the most attractive person in the room tonight.”

“You didn’t even look at anybody else,” Dean points out.

“I didn’t need to,” Cas replies smoothly.

“I’m already drunk, y’know. If you wanna get me into bed you just gotta ask. Or kiss me. Or touch me. Or hell, even lookin’ at me’ll do the trick,” he promises, sliding his hand along Castiel’s firm stomach. He spots Castiel’s car parked a little ways down the street and they both pivot in that direction.

“How you test me, omega,” Cas says with a heavy sigh, but Dean knows just from his scent that he isn’t mad. Which reminds him...

“Hey, how come you didn’t go all -” He waves his hand around in a vague fluttery gesture “- crazy and rip Lisa’s hair out when you saw her pinning me down?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought alphas were supposed t’be all crazy possessive and territorial and stuff, but you just stood there like you were cool as a cucumber.” Then something horrible occurs to him and he looks up at Cas with wide eyes. “Do you - do you not think I’m your boyfriend? Your omega? I thought ‘cause we scented each other and’ve been spending all o’this time together -”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re my boyfriend, and I do think of you as my omega, Dean,” Cas promises.

“Then why...?”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs in exasperation. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you it took every ounce of control I had not to snap her neck on the spot? That I would have _gladly_ mounted you over her dead body and knotted you in front of all those people so they could see who you belong to? Because I wanted to. I’m still fighting the urge to sink my teeth into your neck right now so no other alpha will ever mistake you for anything but mine for the rest of your life.”

Dean can hardly breathe as Castiel paints a very porny picture with his words. “That’s like... insanely hot. I’m basically dripping slick over here.”

 _“But_ you’re a person, too, Dean,” Cas says, breezing right past Dean’s admission like he can’t suddenly smell blueberry muffins in the air. “And you’re entirely capable of fighting your own battles. You don’t need a white knight, as Charlie called me.”

“But I _want one,”_ Dean confesses. “Well, I want it to be you. I know I’m my own person or whatever but I’m your omega, too. I like hearing you say it, I like when you get possessive, and I really fucking like the idea of you coming to the rescue and calling me yours. I wanna be yours.”

Cas doesn’t say anything right away, but they pass another couple of people he recognizes from school that he nods at, and he figures Cas is just keeping quiet in front of them. That is, right until they actually reach the car. And then, between one breath and the next, he finds himself pinned to the side of the car by Castiel’s hips.

Dean’s head spins from more than just alcohol when he feels Cas’s mouth hot and insistent on his neck. He turns his head slightly to give Cas more access and moans unabashedly when he feels Cas start to suck. His hands clamp down on Castiel’s strong shoulders, keeping him right where he is, while he feels Cas’s mouth working his skin, wave after wave of desire crashing into him with every breath. He drinks in the familiar scent of aroused alpha mixing with his own slick as he thinks about the bruise he’s going to have on his neck, on the bruise Cas is sucking into his _scent gland,_ the next best thing to a mating bite. He’s going to smell like blueberry coffee for days after this and he’s totally getting off on the idea.

Cas pulls away from his neck, his shoulders heaving, his lips slick with split and Dean launches himself at him. He wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him in for a searing kiss. His fingers slide up until they’re buried in his soft hair, tugging this way and that to get their lips lined up just the way he likes it, groaning when Cas thrusts against him, dragging his alpha cock against his hip. He kisses him again and again, reveling in every hitch of Castiel’s breath, every time Castiel’s fingers tighten on his back, the quiet growl he can hear echoing in his chest. He feels invincible, desirable, and he still wants a hell of a lot more than just making out.

Cas keeps their groins pressed snugly together but breaks their kiss, diving back in for several shorter kisses that still take his breath away before he seems to force himself to stop entirely. “Was that possessive enough for you?” Cas asks, smiling down at him knowingly.

“Woulda been better if you kept goin'," Dean answers breathlessly.

Cas chuckles and nuzzles into his cheek. “Should I have taken you for the first time against the car when you’re not completely sober?”

“Wouldn’t’ve heard a complaint from me, ‘cept my ass is frozen.”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that,” Cas grins, spinning them until Dean’s the one pressing Cas against the car. Then he surprises the hell out of him and slides his hands down his back until he’s got them kneading his ass cheeks. Dean slumps against him as they rock together gently, his forehead resting on Castiel’s shoulder as he struggles tries to keep his breathing even, indescribable pleasure shooting through him as Cas’s thumbs drift along his ass crack. “Better?”

“Still cold,” Dean lies, and Castiel’s body shakes against his as he laughs. He sighs with pleasure when Cas’s nose finds his neck again, thinking that he could stay just like this for days and never get tired of it.

“Your ass is astonishing,” Cas admits, kissing the bruise he sucked into his neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve had to stop myself from touching you like this.”

“Consider this...” He pauses, searching for the right word and then snapping his fingers in triumph when he thinks of it. _“Blanket_ permission to grope me literally any time,” Dean says breathlessly, tipping his head back for Cas to nuzzle in even closer. He hums with pleasure while his head spins as Cas scents him again and again.

“I missed you, my omega,” Cas says quietly. The happiness he was feeling only a minute ago increases tenfold as he hears those words come out of his mouth.

“Should’ve told you to call me that from the beginning,” he answers, finally lifting his head to look back at him. “Missed you, alpha.”

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

He really should be prepared for the way the ground moves as he walks, but he’s not, which means he’s incredibly thankful for Castiel’s strong arms holding him up as he walks around to his side of the car. Once inside, the concentrated scent of his alpha soothes the pounding in his head he wasn’t even aware of until it stopped, and he lets it fall back onto the leather seat behind him.

He hears Cas get into the car and start it, feels the heat hit his flushed cheeks and the movement of the car as Cas pulls away from the curb. “Mine or yours, coffee bean?”

“Sam still at your place?” Dean wonders.

“He is.”

“Yours,” Dean answers, feeling sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Can we lose the heat? Feelin’ a little warm o’er here.”

It’s turned off immediately and Dean hums his thanks. He lets his eyes stay closed as the motion of the car along with Castiel’s scent pulls him into a light sleep. He dozes the whole way to Cas’s place, only waking up when Cas pulls his door open and touches his face.

“We’re here, little bean,” Cas says, gazing down at him with fondness.

Unfortunately, that’s when Dean’s stomach lurches, and he _just_ manages to lean out of the car before he empties the contents of his stomach on the garage floor right between Castiel’s feet.

He hears Cas curse under his breath before his hand is rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. Once his stomach is empty, Dean wipes his mouth on his sleeve and looks up into Cas’s blue eyes, his brain now miraculously clear.

“I really should have seen that coming,” Cas says, and Dean smiles sheepishly.

“Least I feel better now.”

“I should hope so,” Cas says haughtily, causing Dean’s lips to quirk at his disapproving tone of voice. “You’re exceptionally lucky we have a housekeeper.”

“I can clean it up later,” Dean offers, taking the proffered hand Cas holds out and carefully stepping around his puddle of vomit.

“Can you walk?”

“Not like I have a choice,” Dean grumbles, and the next second, he’s scooped up off of his feet into a bridal carry. “Holy shit,” he breathes as he wraps his arms around Castiel’s neck. “Was not expectin' that.”

“Just know that I _will_ drop you if you vomit on me,” Cas warns him, but as Dean rests his head against his alpha’s shoulder and feels a kiss to the top of his head, Dean really doubts that.

Castiel makes a pit stop in the TV room to find Gabe and Sam on the couch watching hockey. Gabe has his feet in Sam’s lap, which makes him pause for a moment, but then he shakes it off when they both look over and see Dean passed out in his arms and start laughing.

“Shh,” Castiel warns them. “Dean had a little bit too much to drink, threw up in the garage, and now I’m going to try to get some water and Advil into him. Sam, would you be comfortable staying here tonight? I really think Dean just has to sleep it off.”

Sam looks at Gabriel, who shrugs, and then back up at Castiel. “You’re not gonna... go crazy like you did at the rink when he’s passed out, are you?”

Castiel feels shame heat his face knowing that he’s ever behaved in such a way that would make Sam feel like he has to ask that question.

“He was in a rut, bonehead,” Gabriel says before he can say anything. “And he still put the brakes on. Not a lotta alphas do that, ya know.”

“You’re still right to ask, though, Sam. And you raise an important question, too. Do you think Dean would be comfortable sleeping in my bed or should I set him up in another room?” Sam drops his gaze to his brother. “I do plan on asking him if he becomes conscious at any point before then, but just in case.”

“I think he’d be pissed if I said he didn’t want to sleep with you,” Sam admits. “But you better not touch him when he’s passed out.”

“Oh my god, Cassie’s basically a saint, treetop,” Gabriel tells Sam. “You need to worry about your own virtue way more than your brother’s. You’re sleeping with the trouble-making Milton, after all.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but Castiel is quickly reevaluating things here. “You two are not to sleep in the same room.”

Gabriel laughs delightedly but Sam looks between them in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because I said so,” Castiel responds, using that for the first time in his life. “Gabriel, I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t pop your knot, big bro. I don’t share a bed with people who could roll over and squish me like a bug anyway. Gotta look out for number one.” Sam chuckles, but his attention goes back to the hockey game as it comes back from commercial.

“Ugh, 6-2 for Montreal? Who’s in net?” Castiel wonders.

“Toskala,” Sam answers without looking back at him.

“Shit, he was on a roll, too.”

Castiel stands there until there’s a whistle, comfortable with Dean's slight weight in his arms, then bids them goodnight after warning them once more that he’ll be checking to see where they’re sleeping throughout the night. Then he makes his way to his bedroom still carrying Dean, cursing every step he climbs on the staircase, until finally he walks into his room and lies Dean down on his bed. He bends down to kiss his forehead, whispering, “I’ll be right back. Do not throw up on my bed or there will be consequences.”

Dean doesn’t respond but he didn’t expect him to. He hurries to the bathroom off of his room and grabs a towel and the garbage can, then goes back for Advil and a glass of water. When he returns to his bedroom he finds Dean on his stomach, face down on his pillow, breathing in deeply.

He smiles to himself as he thinks about Dean enjoying his scent, and quickly uses the bathroom and brushes his teeth, then changes into a pair of lounge pants and an old t-shirt. He grabs a t-shirt for Dean as well, knowing there’s no way any of his pants will fit him, and walks over to kneel at the side of the bed. He rubs Dean’s back, then when that doesn’t work, he shakes him gently to wake him up.

Dean turns towards him, blinking slowly and then groaning and slumping back onto the pillow. “Why’s it smell like heaven?”

“You’re in my bed,” Castiel answers, chuckling lightly.

“Finally.”

“Would you like to change out of your flannel to sleep? I have a t-shirt you can wear.”

“‘m not goin’ home?”

“You’re welcome to stay with me if you’d like, or I can sleep in the spare room next door.”

“Stay wit’me,” Dean whines, and god, he’s adorable even when he’s slurring his words and being a big baby.

“I would love nothing more, but first you need to take off your shirt and take these Advil.”

“Mmhm talk dirty t’me, alpha,” Dean jokes, and Castiel marvels at the man before him who still thinks non-stop about sex after vomiting less than a half hour ago.

“Up, you little menace,” Castiel replies, and Dean snorts, but does push himself up to sitting.

“Ugh, I’m never drinkin’ again.”

Castiel chuckles heartily. “Famous last words.” He turns his back while Dean changes out of his shirt, not wanting to be tempted by the sight of his bare chest when they’re sharing a bed for the first time and Dean is under the influence of alcohol.

“Y’know you can look if you wanna,” Dean says, and Castiel rolls his eyes when Dean hits him in the back of his head with his shirt. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Despite his better judgement, he turns and looks, catching a glimpse of freckled skin and sharp hip bones that are just begging to be tasted, but then he zeroes in on how there are far too many ribs visible than there should be. It doesn’t detract from Dean's beauty at all or how his entire body turns warm at the sight of his omega's bare chest, but at the same time, he makes a mental note to make sure he takes Dean out to eat more often. He must not have enough at home because he knows he has a healthy appetite.

Dean slips Castiel’s shirt over his head and as it drapes over his small frame, he glances up through his eyelashes at Castiel. With his collarbone exposed because his shirt is too large on him, his cheeks a rosy pink from the alcohol, and the eye contact he maintains as he leans back on Castiel’s bed, Castiel knows this image is going to replay in his mind often.

“You’re every bit as enticing laid out on my bed like that as I feared you would be,” Castiel admits, getting a shy smile from Dean. Forcing his mind out of the gutter, he hands him the water and shakes out two Advil for him. “Drink that down for me, coffee bean.” Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes, but does what he asks before he puts the glass back down on the nightstand. “How’s your stomach?”

“Fine now, s’my head that’s pounding.”

“Ready for bed then?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah. Am I gonna make this weird if I ask to sleep in my boxers?”

Castiel swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat, trying not to imagine how tempting it’s going to be to have Dean in his bed wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. “I’m not going to pretend it’s not going to affect me, but I can control myself. And if Sam asks, which I think he might, you have to explain it was all your idea.”

“Why’s Sam care? I sleep naked a’home.”

Castiel pins him with an unimpressed look which gets a wide smile from Dean. “He wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to take advantage of you.”

“Can’t take advantage of the willing, alpha,” Dean says with a wink, leaning in for a kiss.

Castiel stops him with gentle pressure on his bare shoulder. “Which reminds me, you should really brush your teeth so I don’t have to smell your vomit breath all night.” Dean snickers and Castiel offers, “You can use my toothbrush if you’d like. Right through the door there. Do you need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m prol’ly good. I’ll jus’ be a minute.”

Castiel takes the opportunity to pull back the covers on his bed and lays the towel down where Dean’s going to sleep, just in case. Then he gets into bed and waits for Dean with his heart beating twice as fast as usual. He _knows_ nothing sexual is going to happen between them tonight, but at the same time, he’s never shared a bed with anybody he was dating before and he’s still a confusing mix of nervous and anxious.

When Dean walks into the room wearing his too big t-shirt with only the hem of his black boxers visible, he absolutely takes Castiel’s breath away. “You are a vision, Dean Winchester,” he says honestly.

Dean smiles shyly and climbs into bed beside him, not _feeling_ shy in the least if the way he curls up against him and nudges Castiel’s chin up to scent him is anything to go by. Castiel feels Dean’s entire body rise and fall with his deep breaths, and he envelopes Dean in his arms as he drops his nose to Dean’s soft hair. He brushes his thumb over the back of Dean’s neck, his heart almost unbearably full with how perfectly Dean fits against him.

Dean breaks the silence a few minutes later. “Damn, either those Advil are kicking in already or just bein’ in your arms is making me feel a hell of a lot better. My headache’s basically gone.”

“I’m glad. You may have noticed the well placed garbage can next to the bed just in case you need it.”

Dean’s body rattles with his laughter. “Yeah. I’m not gonna barf on you, Cas.”

He isn’t quite as sure about that as Dean sounds, but he hopes he’s right. “I would really appreciate that.”

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel feels his heart expand so quickly it’s almost painful. “Always, my omega.”

They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in their combined scents, stroking each other’s skin and enjoying being in each other’s arms. He can’t stop thinking about how right this feels, how easy they fit together, and how his chest feels like it’s overflowing with warmth and affection for Dean.

“Dean?” Castiel whispers.

“Mm?”

He wonders if Dean can feel the way his heart is beating so fiercely as he struggles to find the words to ask what’s on his mind. “Hypothetically,” he begins, taking the coward’s way out, “would it be alright if I was starting to fall in love with you?”

Dean’s quiet for so long he wonders if he fell asleep. Even worse, he wonders if he freaked him out and if Dean’s trying to find a way out of his bed. The only thing keeping him from wondering how to take his words back is Dean’s steady, happy scent.

Finally, Dean answers in a whisper of his own. “You wouldn’t be fallin’ alone.” Castiel’s smile is so big he wouldn’t be at all surprised if his face cracked straight in half. “Hyplo - hippo - whatever-thetically,” Dean struggles to add as an afterthought, which only makes him laugh harder.

“Goodnight, coffee bean.”

“‘Night, loser,” Dean responds, turning over and wiggling until his back is pressed against Castiel’s chest.

Now Castiel can fit his larger body around Dean’s, and he takes the presented opportunity to tuck his nose against Dean’s scent gland, pressing a chaste kiss over the bruise he sucked there earlier, drinking in the scent of his blissfully happy omega. He falls asleep with Dean’s fingers curled around his, wondering what he has to do to make this happen every night for the rest of his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please read warning for violence at the end of the chapter if you are easily triggered by physical or emotional abuse (not between Dean and Cas).**

**_2007_ **

Castiel slowly blinks himself awake to see Dean’s green eyes staring back at him, a sliver of sunlight spread across his freckled cheeks, and the pleasing scent of happy omega in the air.

“Good morning,” Castiel says quietly, lifting his hand to drag his thumb across Dean’s cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“Best sleep of my life,” Dean answers, turning his head to nuzzle into Castiel’s hand. They lie there next to each other, just staring and snuggling, scenting each other and drifting lazily for what feels like a long time. Castiel is happier than he can ever remember being, daydreaming about spending countless more days like this waking up next to his omega. Now that he’s had it, he doesn’t know how he’ll sleep without him. Just smelling how light and content Dean’s scent is makes him want to stay just like this forever.

“Feeling okay?” he finally remembers to ask.

“Feel fine. Well,” Dean adds, leaning in to kiss him gently. It turns into a lingering kiss with Dean’s tongue teasing at the seam of his lips, making Castiel chase after him for more as he pulls away. “Could use a hand with something.”

“What do you need, my omega?” Castiel asks.

Dean’s fingers circle around Castiel’s wrist, and though he isn’t sure what he’s doing at first, Castiel allows Dean to push his hand down his body until he reaches his waist. It’s there he figures out exactly what Dean means at the same time Dean answers, “You.”

Dean’s scent is still coiling with sweet sugar and cinnamon, and after what they said to each other last night combined with Dean warm from sleep and in his bed, he doesn’t stop Dean when he continues to guide Castiel’s hand to his erection. Desire and nerves clench in his chest as he rubs his palm over Dean’s hard length for the first time, heart hammering as he watches Dean’s face raptly. Pouty lips parting, long eyelashes drifting shut to fan across an endearing rosy pink that spreads to hide his freckles. Entranced by his expression, Castiel leans forward and kisses his chin, his jaw, and slowly works his way to Dean’s neck and scent gland while he palms his bulge over his boxers.

Dean’s fingers are grasping for the hem of Castiel’s shirt, and Castiel makes a low sound of pleasure as Dean’s hands begin roaming his back as he pushes it up and up. Castiel slides his hand along Dean’s shaft until his fingers are dancing under the elastic band. He doesn’t get the chance to ask before Dean says, “Yes, _god yes.”_

“My needy omega,” Castiel teases him, but secretly he’s incredibly pleased to hear Dean wanting him as much as he does. It’s with a sense of satisfaction that he snakes his hand beneath the elastic and grasps Dean’s cock in his hand.

Dean’s completely hard and bigger than he expected him to be, so he lets his fingers explore, finding his omega cut and surprisingly wet on the tip. It’s a shock to his system just how aroused he is in turn from feeling the proof of Dean’s attraction to him. He swipes his fingers through the fluid and earns himself a gasp from Dean, so he does it again, feeling until he finds the sensitive slit and traces his thumb over it. Dean jerks against him, and assuming it’s a little too sensitive for him, Castiel places a kiss to the bolt of his jaw and moves along, making a loose circle with his thumb and forefinger and dragging it down his shaft. It feels odd but excitingly different not to feel the swollen tissue of a knot at the base and he enjoys how most of Dean can fit in his hand.

“H-have you ever done this before?” Dean asks him, his voice breathy.

“Only to myself,” Castiel responds, blushing at the admission.

“You’re a fucking natural,” Dean tells him. “Kiss me.”

Castiel sucks gently against the bruise he left last night before he kisses his way back to Dean’s mouth, catching those plush lips between his own and swallowing the moan Dean makes. He continues stroking his cock slowly, experimentally, stopping to explore every spot that draws a needy little sound from his omega while they kiss. He discovers Dean’s cockhead is extremely sensitive, much more so than his own, and Dean actually trembles when his fingers trace the small ridge where his cockhead meets his shaft.

“You’re stunning, Dean,” Castiel tells him truthfully, brushing their lips together reverently.

Dean breaks their kiss, panting, and Castiel sees his Adam’s apple bob before he asks, “Can we take our shirts off?”

The peek he got last night of Dean’s bare skin wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his curiosity, and he can’t find a reason to deny either of them when Dean’s looking at him so hopefully. “I’d like that.”

Dean doesn’t waste any time, eagerly pushing Castiel’s shirt up until he tugs it over his head, then sitting up enough so he can pull his borrowed shirt off, too. Castiel’s hands reach for his hip bones immediately, his thumbs fitting perfectly into the notches that are now openly on display, and he holds his breath when Dean climbs on top of him, straddling his waist and sitting directly on top of his erection.

“Jesus, you’re huge,” Dean breathes, and Castiel can’t help but preen at the compliment even as he tries to catch his breath. Seeing Dean straddling him and feeling his meager weight settle on top of him is an erotic dream come true and he’s far more aroused by it than he wants to admit.

He attempts to hide it by countering, “You’re beautiful, Dean. Every inch of you is absolutely perfect.”

“I’m scrawny compared to you,” Dean disagrees, looking down at Castiel’s chest.

“You’re perfect,” Castiel repeats, forcing himself to lift his eyes up past his hip bones, to his toned stomach, and further to his dusty pink nipples and slim but athletically strong-looking shoulders and arms. “I promise you, you’re breathtaking, omega. I’ve never been more attracted to anybody. I like you exactly as you are.”

Dean rocks down gently, his soft smile turning into a smirk when the friction he provides on Castiel’s erection draws a moan from him. “I mean, I guess it doesn’t _feel_ like you’re complaining.”

“Not even close,” Castiel just manages to say.

Dean leans down and presses a kiss to his sternum, the hands bracing themselves on Castiel’s sides now drifting to his stomach. “Shit, Cas, you’re ripped.”

“Hardly,” Castiel scoffs.

“Mmmm,” Dean moans as he trails his warm lips over his abs and around his navel to the other side. Dean’s hands slide up to his chest as his plush mouth leaves a trail of wet kisses up to them.

Castiel’s heart is beating like a drum in his chest as he lets his own hands drift the expanse of Dean’s back, concentrating hard on not thrusting against the dampening heat of Dean’s ass swaying gently on top of him.

“Totally disagree. You’re so hot, alpha,” Dean says as he gets back to his neck, scenting him slowly and stealing Castiel’s breath away. “Damn am I a lucky son of a bitch.”

Then they’re kissing, and whether it’s because it’s something they’re both already comfortable with or if that’s just their collective limit to how much they can take, things heat up from there. Dean licks into his mouth like he’s desperate for it, all tongue and teeth. He kisses him fiercely, nipping at his lips and doing something so filthy with his tongue that it’s taking all of Castiel’s control not to drag his perfect little ass down onto his cock with every swipe.

Dean pulls away just enough to breathe, “Touch me, Cas,” and Castiel doesn't have it in him to resist. His hands move from Dean’s hips to his ass immediately while Dean deepens the kiss with a groan that sends a bolt of excitement straight to Castiel’s already throbbing cock. It’s impossible to deny the impulse to move with him when Dean starts to rock on top of him more insistently, and the friction Dean’s ass creates is absolutely phenomenal. He palms Dean’s ass cheeks, both squeezing the firm but pliant flesh and helping Dean move so that he’s somehow rising and falling while still rocking against him. He gets lost in imagining how much better it will be one day when he’s inside of Dean and Dean’s moving on top of him like this, taking his cock like he’s made to, rotating his hips just right, mesmerizing Castiel with how right it feels. He thinks about plunging into the wet, sweet scent that’s already tempting him and begging his alpha to give his omega what he wants, what he needs to make him truly his.

It’s no wonder that only minutes pass before Castiel’s sure he’s going to embarrass himself and come too fast like a prepubescent boy, but then Dean breaks away and breathes, “More.”

Castiel struggles to make sense of his words, his eyes inexplicably drawn to how erotic it is to see Dean’s bow legs framing his hips so snugly. His hand palms the curve of Dean’s hip as he tries to find words to say no to the most attractive person he’s ever seen let alone have the honor to touch. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I’m not - I’m not ready to have sex with you. I want to, a part of me is _dying to,_ but -”

“I know,” Dean says, nodding his understanding and kissing him again gently. “I know, but can you - will you touch me?” When Castiel frowns in confusion over what exactly that means considering all of the places they’ve already touched, Dean swallows hard and whispers, “I want you to feel how slick you make me.”

Now Castiel actually can’t breathe. Heat engulfs him from head to toe and he has to really concentrate to take several mind cleansing breaths before he can respond. “Are you sure?”

Dean smiles and nods again, catching his lips in another sweet kiss that soothes some of Castiel’s nerves. “I want you to be the first one.”

“I want to,” Castiel admits, meeting his lips for another kiss as Dean keeps smiling down at him. “But I - I have to tell you I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Welcome to the club,” Dean says, laughing nervously. “Listen, Cas, every damn time you touch me it feels fucking amazing, okay? Believe me, you can’t fuck this up.”

Castiel nods and takes him at his word. “Well, hold on then. I think it will be easier if you’re on you’re back, so I’m going to attempt to flip us over.”

Dean’s grin spreads wide as he sits all the way up, and Castiel grips him by his hips and uses his body to roll them over until Dean’s underneath him. Dean’s back hits the mattress a little harder than he meant him to, and a soft, “Ooof,” comes out of Dean when all of Castiel’s weight settles on top of him at once.

“Shit, sorry,” Castiel says, pushing up to his elbows. “That looks so much easier in porn.”

Dean snorts shallowly, and that sets the two of them off to dissolve into laughter with the bed shaking beneath them, causing Castiel to remember that he’s here with _Dean_ and that he doesn’t need to be so nervous. Dean pulls him down for a kiss with his hand on the back of his neck, their lips still tight with their smiles until Dean snakes his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, and then like a switch has flipped, they’re right back to making out and grinding together. Castiel’s inner alpha preens with the sensation of his omega, so small and lithe, pinned to his bed underneath him, their cocks slotting together just right as he presses Dean into the mattress with each thrust of his hips.

Dean is moaning right into his mouth, soft and low, and Castiel can hardly believe how good it feels, how good everything feels with Dean. Dean wrests his lips away from Castiel’s as his hand settles on the dip of Castiel’s lower back, giving Castiel the opportunity to scent him as he says, “Cas, please.”

“I’ve got you, coffee bean,” Castiel promises, hoping he can live up to that. “Do you want me to take your boxers off now?”

“Yeah.”

Dean’s nod is shaky though, so Castiel kisses him chastely, offering comfort and showing him he’s still in control. “Tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll stop, okay? At any time, I promise.”

“I know, Cas. I trust you,” Dean says earnestly.

Castiel leans in to kiss his spit slick lips once more before he starts a trail down Dean’s body. He brushes his lips right underneath Dean’s chin, over the hollow of his throat, and down to his collarbone. He follows the short, angular path until he reaches his chest which is dotted with freckles. He drops dozens of kisses onto them, making smooching sounds against his skin loudly enough to cause Dean to huff with laughter. He continues until his lips graze his nipple and Dean jerks slightly as his breath stutters out in a moan.

“Hmmm,” Castiel says curiously, placing an open-mouthed kiss directly to the small pink nub and flicking his tongue over it.

“Shit,” Dean curses, his fingers fisting into Castiel’s hair as Castiel swirls his tongue around his nipple. “Had no idea that’d feel that good.”

Castiel’s chest fills with pride, so pleased that he’s able to bring Dean pleasure at all that he applies himself firmly to the task. He licks and sucks at his nipples one at a time, pulling them into his mouth and nibbling gently on his pebbled flesh until Dean is moaning non-stop and the scent of slick is so heavy in the air he can’t possibly resist moving downwards for another moment. He gets sidetracked when he finally gets his mouth on the hip bones he’s been salivating over, giving into the urge to mark him and sucking a line of matching bruises into each one as he memorizes every freckle he comes across on Dean’s body.

Castiel’s reminded of how his cock hangs heavy and throbbing between his legs when he pulls another strangled sound from his omega. Wanting to hear him get even louder, he slips his fingertips beneath the elastic of Dean’s boxers and slides them over his thighs and off of his feet. He breathes in deeply when he discovers the sweet scent of his slick is more pronounced now than ever.

“You smell unbelievably sweet, my omega,” Castiel says, struggling to resist the urge to bury his face right between the round ass cheeks that are now bared to him. “My god I want to taste you.”

“Fuuuck,” Dean curses breathlessly. “Do it. Do it, Cas. Alpha, _please.”_

“One thing at a time, little bean,” Castiel says, pushing himself back up so they’re face to face again, settling between Dean’s spread legs. “There’s no hurry. I want to learn and perfect every way I can bring you pleasure.” Dean squirms beneath him, causing Castiel’s teeth to bite into his own bottom lip as he tries to maintain his composure. “You can’t possibly know how desirable you are when your body’s begging me for more.”

“I’m about three seconds away from beggin’ you out loud,” Dean warns him.

An increased shiver of desire climbs up his spine at the very idea. “While I bet you’re lovely when you beg, I have no intention of making either of us wait any longer. I’m dying to touch you, Dean.”

As he speaks, he shifts to the side so he can brace his upper body on one elbow framing Dean’s head, then uses his free hand to slowly trail from the soft flesh on the bend of Dean’s knee, up the back of his thigh, and to the place where his leg meets his groin. He looks directly into Dean’s eyes, checking for any traces of hesitancy before he teases the loose skin of Dean’s balls until he reaches the space behind them where he finds the swell of Dean’s asscheek already wet with slick.

Instantly, his heartbeat quadruples, and because he’s all too aware of how his hand is shaking while he searches blindly for Dean’s hole, he buries his face and embarrassment into the crook of Dean’s neck. The first press of his fingertips to Dean’s wet, warm entrance has knife-sharp arousal slicing right through him. The way Dean’s breath catches and his ass clenches around the barest hint of pressure is the single most arousing moment of his entire life. His cock kicks and drools precum while he follows his instincts and traces two fingers around Dean’s rim, drunk with lust on his sugary scent, from every breathy little sound he lets spill from his lips, and how incredibly delicious his submission is. Feeling more confident now, he circles Dean’s rim, lifting his head to watch Dean’s face. His knot begins to swell as he watches Dean biting down on his plush lower lip, his eyelids fluttering between open and closed, his flush growing more pronounced on his freckled cheeks with every pass of Castiel’s fingers.

He leans down to kiss each and every freckle he can see, his heart overflowing with fondness for Dean as he whispers, “You look so beautiful, Dean. I feel like the luckiest man in the world to get to touch you like this, to see you look like temptation personified, smell how fantastically sweet you can get. You’re exquisite, my omega.”

“Cas,” Dean croaks, turning his head and asking silently for a kiss.

The moment their lips meet and Dean’s hand cups his cheek, Castiel feels an indescribable warmth peirce straight through his chest and knows without question that he just fell in love for the first time in his life. Overcome with emotion, he pulls away to rest their foreheads together, needing to see the expression on Dean’s face the first time he really breaches him. He runs a finger along his crack to coat it in Dean’s slick, and not wanting to hurt this sweet boy who trusts him with the most intimate part of himself, he presses only the tip of a single finger to his opening. To his utter surprise, his finger sinks in easily to the first knuckle without even a hint of resistance, and his jaw drops when he feels just how wet and tight his omega really is.

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel breathes against his lips. “You already feel so good, sweetheart. Does it hurt at all?”

“No,” Dean answers hoarsely. “Keep goin’.”

Only applying the faintest bit of pressure, Castiel wiggles his finger and slides into the wet heat waiting for him until the webs of his fingers stop him.

“Jesus fuck,” Dean curses. “That feels amazing. Don’t stop. M-move or something.”

“Your wish is my command, omega,” Castiel says cheekily, kissing the bottom lip Dean keeps worrying with his teeth. “There isn’t a single thing I could deny you right now. I am completely at your mercy.”

He withdraws his finger just enough so he can push it back in, and when Dean arches his lower back and makes the filthiest sound he’s ever heard as he thrusts it back inside, Castiel is spellbound. He’s transfixed by the display of Dean’s abdominal muscles flexing as he rolls his hips down to meet Castiel’s finger for more, in the way his head is thrown back with pleasure, in how he’s so fearless about baring his neck for him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Dean. I swear to you I will never forget how you look right now as long as I live. You - you’re so beautiful, omega, inside and out. I’m the luckiest alpha in the world.”

“Cas,” Dean whispers, bringing his hand to the nape of Castiel’s neck. His mouth opens and closes several times like he’s trying to say something, but he finally shakes his head and tugs him down to kiss his scent gland instead, sending a shiver through him. Then he forces Castiel to turn his head and meets his lips so tenderly that he melts his heart along with any remaining reservations he was clinging to.

He withdraws his finger entirely, slicking up a second one and carefully pressing them both into Dean’s core, once again enraptured by the look of pure pleasure on Dean’s face as he stretches around them. As he thrusts into him again and again, he spreads them, hoping to make room for more. He sits up and looks down between Dean’s legs for the first time, gasping at the sight of Dean’s slick hole puffy and deliciously pink around the edges, swallowing his thick fingers with ease.

Dean’s hips and ass are so much smaller than him it’s almost obscene the way his fingers look so big opening him up, and heat flashes through him when he imagines how stretched out Dean’s ass will look on his cock, his knot. Watching his fingers disappear into Dean’s tight ass has him perched on the edge of losing it, so he tears his eyes away, refocusing on the rest of him instead, wanting to learn every centimetre of his omega’s body and exactly how to bring him the most pleasure. He kisses the well of Dean’s bottom lip and the corner of his mouth, the freckles on his cheek and the bolt of his jaw as he sinks his fingers into his omega again and again, trying desperately not to think about how wet and tight that’s going to feel on his knot someday.

“Deeper,” Dean urges him, pulling him away from his thoughts. Castiel listens immediately, plunging his fingers into Dean’s hot center further and further, breathing hard and trying not to lose it when he hears the filthy squelching sound they make. The tips of his fingers brush against something new and Dean chokes out, “Hnnng, fuuuuck.” Encouraged by that reaction, Castiel prods that spot again, rubbing his fingertips against it until Dean’s ass clenches on Castiel’s fingers. “You like that, my omega?” Castiel teases, laughing lightly at the way Dean nods his head eagerly. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Dean.”

Castiel alternates between nudging that one little spot and scissoring his fingers, finally adding a third that has Dean’s body so rigid at first he worries he hurt him, but as he starts to apologize Dean’s fingers clutch at his shoulders and he shakes his head, chanting, “It’s good - really good. I’m so close, Cas. So close, so close.”

Castiel leans down to darken the bruise he left on his scent gland as he fucks Dean with his fingers, slow and deep the way he’s learned Dean likes it, and he scrapes his teeth over his scent gland at the same moment he stimulates his prostate again. Dean makes a high pitched noise as his entire body goes stiff as a board a split second before hot fluid splashes on Castiel’s stomach. He looks down in time to see Dean’s cock jerk as he spills again, the salty sweet scent flooding the room as his omega finds his release.

“My omega,” Castiel growls quietly, feeling a surprisingly strong spike of possessiveness after seeing Dean come apart on his fingers. “My omega. Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats, feeling it thrum through his veins and echo in his brain as he sucks mark after mark into Dean’s skin.

And when Dean starts breathing out promises, echoing, “Yours, alpha,” Castiel couldn’t resist leaning down to claim his lips if the house caught on fire. Their mouths meet in an uncoordinated kiss as Dean continues to fuck himself on Castiel’s fingers, gasping against his mouth, rolling his naked body up against Castiel’s.

“God, Dean, look at you, covering me in your slick and cum. I’m yours, omega. Only yours.”

Dean’s exhausted smile beams up at him. Seeing that he’s out of breath and boneless now that he’s come, Castiel removes his fingers and strokes his hair lovingly with his other hand. Feeling the urge to protect his omega now that he’s pleased him, he gathers him close and murmurs praise and endearments between kisses until Dean seems to come back to life.

Their kisses go from lazy to scorching when Dean reapplies himself, and as Castiel is reminded of just how hard he is, Dean pushes him onto his back. “Your turn, old man.”

“While I’m not entirely opposed to the idea, I’m pretty sure I won’t last long enough for you to get a finger inside of me right now.”

Dean freezes with his hand on Castiel’s lower stomach as he searches Castiel’s eyes, then his face breaks on a breathtaking grin. “Jesus, Cas. You are literally my every porny dream come true, you know that?”

Castiel chuckles at his reaction, but then it’s his turn to freeze when he watches Dean reach between his own legs to slick up his hand before he snakes it down the front of Castiel’s pants to wrap it around Castiel’s cock.

His jaw comes unhinged at the first hint of the slippery warmth of Dean’s hand, and the knowledge that Dean’s using his own slick on Castiel’s cock has him grunting out, “Oh fuck.” Dean smirks as he works his hand up and down his shaft, already getting the most embarrassing sounds out of him that he’s ever made. “Your slick - you - Dean -” Then he groans as Dean twists on the upstroke. “God, I can barely talk.”

Dean chuckles where his forehead is laid against Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m just gonna take it as a compliment.”

“You’re incredibly sexy. It was meant as one.”

“And you’re huge, alpha,” Dean says, starting to drop a line of kisses from his shoulder to his neck, nuzzling into his scent gland and making his cock pulse in Dean’s hand. “Fuck that’s hot,” Dean says hoarsely against his skin. Castiel’s eyes are squeezed tightly closed now, drinking in the combined scent of Dean’s slick and his own arousal, sliding his hand down to indulge himself with kneading Dean’s ass as Dean keeps working his shaft. “You got no idea how good your hands feel on me, alpha.”

Dean’s fist closes around the crown and Castiel turns blindly for a kiss, whimpering when Dean teases him by nibbling on his bottom lip. He feels Dean move to straddle his legs, and he opens his eyes to watch Dean pull his pajama pants down over his erection and off entirely before Dean drags in a deep breath and his other hand joins in and squeezes his knot.

 _“Oh.”_ Pleasure unlike anything Castiel has ever felt rockets through him, and with his eyes glued to both of Dean’s hands working over his cock, all it takes for him to surge to his peak is Dean twisting his hand around his knot while he stimulates his cockhead. He just gets out a low sounding, _“Dean,”_ before the heat pooling in his groin reaches its boiling point and he’s coming harder than he ever has in his life, gazing directly into hooded green eyes that are looking back at him like he hung the stars.

They both look down to see how Castiel’s painting his stomach with thick, white stripes of cum, and still, Dean keeps squeezing his knot, milking more and more from him with an eager look on his face. “Jesus, Cas,” he pants. “You smell so good. I - _shit_ \- I wanna taste you, too.” That in itself causes another spurt of cum to dribble down his cock, and they both groan quietly at the sight. Finally, when he’s entirely spent and completely covered in cum and slick, Dean releases his softening erection. He collapses on top of him, smearing their combined cum between their bodies and dropping his forehead to Castiel’s while he tries to catch his breath, two pairs of shoulders heaving with the effort.

Castiel nuzzles into Dean’s cheek, kissing his flushed skin and lifting his hand to pet through the damp hair on the back of his neck, feeling happier and more satisfied than he ever remembers feeling. He’s floating on cloud nine, absolutely elated with one hand cradling the curve of his omega’s naked hip and the other stroking his hair. Then Dean cups his face and kisses him so tenderly he would swear to any deity that he can feel it all the way down in his soul.

Dean’s lips are still grazing his when Dean whispers, “I love you. I love you, Cas. My alpha.”

Indescribable joy eclipses even the all consuming happiness that was so intense only a moment ago. “Oh, Dean,” Castiel whispers, completely overcome with emotion. “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s not just the flood of endorphins from your orgasm?”

Dean chuckles but shakes his head, his cheeks so red with embarrassment his freckles are nearly invisible. “I knew before. Don’t laugh, but I sorta feel like - I feel like I knew you were supposed to be mine from the first time I scented you.”

To his astonishment, he feels tears spring to his eyes as he admits to feeling the same way for the first time, even to himself. “I knew then, too, my omega. And I love you so.” When Dean’s smile causes his eyes to crinkle, Castiel falls inconceivably more in love. How Dean manages to be this adorable and breathtakingly sexy at the same time should be impossible. “I love you, my little coffee bean.”

Dean huffs with laughter and rolls his eyes before he tucks his nose into Castiel’s neck. “You seriously had to ruin the moment with that? You’re worse than I am.”

“You know you love it,” Castiel needles him, and Dean’s chest expands with his dramatic sigh, but they both know it’s true.

“Love _you,”_ Dean says, and Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders, holding him securely against his body. He wills himself to remember exactly how Dean fits against him, how the bedroom smells like a mixture of sex and happiness and wilted roses, and how he truly feels like the luckiest man alive.

“I love you, too.”

They stay like that for a long time, content to just be in one another’s arms, until Dean breaks the silence with, “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

“You can always ask me anything,” Castiel says, though he’s slightly nervous about where this might be going.

“How come you came all over the place but your knot still didn’t go down?” Castiel doesn’t quite manage to stifle his huff of laughter, which makes Dean roll off him and give him a little shove. “I don’t know this shit, okay? I don’t have one! I just wanna make sure I did it right, that you, you know, liked it.”

“Dean,” Castiel says softly, rolling onto his side so he can run his hand down Dean’s arm. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I was just surprised by the question. Knots only go down after a knotting, either with a toy designed to help alphas through their ruts, or the real thing.” He leans in to kiss Dean’s forehead. “I very much enjoyed you touching me, and getting to touch you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure I could go again,” Dean offers with an eyebrow wiggle.

“I’m sure we both could, but a good alpha would make sure you eat something after you emptied your stomach in the garage last night.”

Dean groans, rolling away and covering his face with his hands. “God, please don’t remind me I barfed in front of you.”

“You were quite adorable leading up to that if that helps at all,” Castiel teases him. “Swaying on your feet, slurring your words, asking me to be more _alpha_ with you.” Castiel lifts his fingers to tap them against the bruise he sucked into his scent gland. “I hope you meant that and don’t have any regrets over the mark I left on you.”

Dean lets his hands fall away from his face. “You kidding? This is proof I bagged an older, hot as fuck alpha. I can’t wait to show it off at school,” he grins.

Castiel hums with pleasure at the idea of virtual strangers being able to take one look at his omega and know that he has a claim on him. “The possessive side of me likes that as well,” he admits.

“You like knowing that everybody else is gonna know I’m yours?”

He feels a renewed wave of heat wash over him just hearing him say it. “Yes.”

Dean rolls onto his side again and draws him into a kiss, sliding one hand up his bare chest to his shoulder and the back of his neck, holding him there and parting his lips for him. Castiel licks into his mouth, sinking into the kiss and moving his hand along Dean’s flank and down to his ass, swallowing the sound of pleasure Dean makes as he pulls him closer. Now that he has permission to touch Dean’s ass like this, he doesn’t know how he’s ever going to take his hands off of him.

“Cas?” Dean says against his lips.

Castiel blinks himself out of his lust-filled haze and swallows down the arousal that’s already started building again. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“I’m not complainin’,” Dean says with a smile. “Just wondering if we could keep this going in the shower?”

Flashes of Dean’s incredible body dripping with water and his scent filling the shower stall has Castiel nodding immediately. “You’re a genius.”

After a shower and another orgasm each, Dean feels like he’s floating down the stairs and towards the kitchen where he insists on making breakfast for his alpha. It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is when Castiel confesses he can’t cook a thing, but Dean compensates by coaxing him into helping mix the ingredients, and together, they make pancakes and bacon. Cas goes to wake up Sam and Gabe, and the four of them eat the whole mountain of pancakes he made and two packages of bacon.

Cas drinks coffee, which makes him seem weirdly older than him for the first time, but he shakes it off when Cas keeps adding more and more bacon to his plate.

“You tryin’ to fatten me up or something?” Dean asks him.

“Just testing the limits of your appetite, little bean,” Cas answers, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“You guys are gross,” Sam complains.

Dean grins and shrugs a shoulder with his mouth full of bacon.

“I think we better get used to it, Samborine. My big brother sucked his intentions right into Dean’s mating gland.”

“So what, you’re gonna let him mate you now?” Sam asks Dean, eying the dark bruise on his neck.

“None of your business,” Dean answers, hating the blush he can feel working its way across his cheeks.

“17 is too young to mate for life,” Sam says anyway.

“I agree with you, Sam,” Cas comments. “And I have no intention of biting him anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean I can’t still put a less permanent claim on him in the interim.”

“I don’t get it,” Sam says, turning to Dean again. “Why do you want him to claim you at all? Why can’t you be equals instead of belonging to him?”

“Because real life ain’t a fairytale,” Dean says. Then when Sam makes a face like he doesn’t believe him, his voice comes out a little harder when he keeps talking. “Last night at the party another alpha got drunk, pinned me down, and tried to scent me against my will. I was screaming no and she still kept going just because she thought I smelled good. If Cas had a mark on me before that she would’ve smelled us both, would’ve smelled another alpha, and she never would’ve touched me.” He watches as Sam lets that sink in. “I care about Cas so I’m fuckin’ thrilled that he claimed me, but he’s keeping me safe by marking me, too.”

“And just because I put a claim on him doesn’t mean he belongs to me. He’s his own person free to make his own decisions and and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Cas adds.

“Not all alphas are like that though,” Gabe tells Sam. Sam and Dean exchange a look that speaks silently of their dad, of how he’s definitely one of the alphas who aren’t like Cas, and Dean gives a tiny shake of his head so Sam will know not to say anything in front of Cas and Gabe.

“But they should be,” Cas swoops in with. “Omegas are people the same way all other secondary genders are.” Dean reaches over to rub his knee under the table and wishes he could have his nose tucked into his neck right now. He really lucked out in the alpha department.

Once they finish breakfast, Dean reluctantly says he has to go. He has homework to finish today, grocery shopping to do, and housework, too. Cas drives him and Sam home, and Sam gets out of the car after thanking Cas for the ride, mumbling something about not needing to see tonsil hockey.

Dean grins as he and Cas meet for a long goodbye kiss. They scent each other again afterwards and Dean’s insides already ache at the thought of separating. “Dammit Cas, I don’t want you to go,” he admits.

“I don’t want to go either. My alpha feels like I’m supposed to keep you close now.”

He knows that’s an instinctive thing after sex. Alphas gotta keep their sleepy after-orgasm omegas out of danger. “I gotta do homework and shit, though, and I can’t do it when you’re there smelling like alpha and distracting me.” Cas nods even as he leans in to catch his lips for another kiss that takes his breath away, Cas’s thumb pressing lightly into the bruise on his neck, sending a shock of arousal through his system. “Fuck,” Dean breathes. “How do I want you again this bad already?”

“I’m fighting the urge to pull you into my lap as we speak,” Cas says, scraping his teeth along his bottom lip. He is _so_ on board with that, so he unbuckles his seat belt and surges into the kiss, already halfway out of his seat when Cas laughs against his lips and sits him back with his big hands firmly placed on his shoulders. “You have work to do, coffee bean.”

“But I’m already gettin’ slick for you,” he tries, and though Cas groans, he holds his ground. Dean sighs and sits back in his seat. Cas has way more control than he wishes he had. “If I get all my shit done will you come back after dinner?”

“You’re not sick of me yet?”

“Not even close.”

“As long as you don’t rush through your homework, I’ll come back. And remember, I’m a tutor so I can check to make sure you’ve done it to your best ability,” Cas threatens lightly.

“Yeah, yeah. Pushy alpha,” Dean teases, leaning back in for one more kiss. “Love you,” he says shyly as they pull apart. He still can’t really believe he gets to just say that, how easy it is to say it to Cas, or how incredible it feels to mean it.

“And I love you,” Cas replies, and jesus, how is it possible that it feels even better to hear it?

“I’ll call you,” he promises, opening the door and stepping outside. He closes it behind him and gives Cas a little wave before he walks into his building and to his apartment with a stupid grin on his face. He can hear raised voices before he even opens the door to the stink of angry alpha and alcohol, and just like that, he goes from the happiest he’s ever been to instantly on edge.

Thankfully the yelling stops as his dad turns towards him, but his dad’s usual scent of leather is almost completely overpowered by the stench of burning plastic. A quick look at the scowl on his face confirms his dad is either drunk or fighting off a hangover.

“Hey, dad,” Dean says carefully.

“Don’t you ‘hey, dad’ me. Where the hell were you?”

“Me and Sammy stayed at a friend’s house last night,” Dean lies, hoping Sam told him the same thing. “Didn’t know you’d be here or we woulda come home.”

“You should have been here anyway, this place is a pigsty. Garbage can is full, there’s glasses in the sink. Don’t you know how to keep house, boy? You’re an omega for god’s sake,” his dad grumbles, throwing himself onto the couch. Dean swallows down his angry retort. The place is fucking spotless except for those two things and he was going to do the dishes after dinner.

“Garbage day is today, that’s why he didn’t change it yet,” Sam says harshly. “Which you would know if you were ever frigging here.”

“You can show me some respect or you can get your ass in your room,” his dad says firmly.

“I’ll show you some respect when you earn it instead of being a useless drunk and a shitty excuse for a dad,” Sam shoots back and Dean sighs heavily as the burning plastic scent only gets stronger. Sam _always_ riles their dad up like this and then wonders why all they do is scream at each other.

“Sam, cut it out,” Dean says. “Go cool down.”

Sam shoots daggers at him with his eyes but storms into his room, leaving the tiny apartment echoing with the sound of the door slamming.

“So what, he only listens to you now?” his dad asks.

He shrugs, trying to play off the fact that Sam has more respect for his brother than his dad. “Teenagers.”

His dad snorts with laughter, and Dean can finally breathe again now that his angry scent is starting to even out and he can actually smell the leather again. “And I got stuck with two of ‘em.”

“You want some coffee or something?” Dean asks, knowing from experience his dad won’t be quite as bad if he has something to help him sober up.

“No, I’m good. Can’t stay long. Buddy of mine is coming to pick me up shortly. I’m going to work for cash in Quebec for a few months, so you’ll have the Impala. You better take better care of her than you do this apartment.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean tries to hide his relief and takes the seat on the other end of the couch. “Watching the highlights from the game last night?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, I was driving so I missed it. How was it?”

“I didn’t see it either. Went to a party,” he admits.

“Thatta boy,” his dad says, grinning at him. “Pick up a feisty little beta to take the edge off?” he asks with a conspiratorial wink.

“Uh, no,” Dean says with a bit of a laugh. “I kinda have a boyfriend now.”

John barks with laughter. “Very funny.”

“What?” Dean asks. “I do. His name is Castiel. He’s an alpha.”

“Does your omega dick not work or something?” John asks, the sudden sneer on his face just as audible in his voice. He doesn’t understand why his dad smells like burning plastic again all of the sudden but he knows it’s bad.

“Wh-what?”

“Just because you’re a bitch when you’re in heat doesn’t mean you have to take it up the ass any other time. You’ve got a dick that works?” Dean nods, not knowing what else to do with his dad looking down at him and talking to him like this. “Then you use it, you don’t take it up the ass like a fuckin’ faggot.” Dean flinches, hardly believing the words he’s hearing. He’s an omega, he’s _made_ to ‘take it up the ass’. “No son of mine is gonna get knocked up like he’s got a pussy. You hear me?”

“I-I’m not gonna,” Dean answers, but he can’t quite meet his gaze with all of this swirling in his head, and in the next second his dad’s got a fist full of his shirt.

“You’re damn right you’re not gonna. Because I am _not_ paying for another mouth to feed. And if -” Then he stops mid-sentence and Dean feels the blood leave his face and fear settle into his stomach as his dad’s nostrils flare. “You did already, didn’t you? You let some alpha knot you like a little whore! I can smell him all over you!”

The breath leaves his lungs as his dad shoves him back against the couch. “I didn’t! Now get the hell off of me.”

His dad does the exact opposite, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him back again. This time, the back of his head connects with the wooden arm of the couch and he winces as pain radiates through his skull. “Ow! You just bashed my fucking head!” Dean complains.

If anything, his dad’s fingers only tighten on his shoulders and Dean grits his teeth as he feels his nails biting into his skin, his angry scent almost choking him. “As long as you live under _my roof_ I’ll be the only alpha you answer to. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” Dean says quietly. Hell, he’d learned a long time ago to say whatever the fuck he needs to to get his dad to calm down. It doesn’t work this time though, because his dad grabs him by his neck and forces it to the side so his scent gland is exposed.

His dad growls as he rubs his wrist over Dean’s neck, masking Castiel’s scent with his own putrid mix of leather and burning plastic, causing Dean’s whole body to start shaking with how wrong it feels. He’s used to biting his tongue around his dad but he literally can’t keep silent when he’s basically erasing the claim Castiel just left on him.

“Don’t,” Dean gasps. “Stop!”

“You are _my son_ and no other alpha is gonna be sniffing around you trying to knock you up when I’ve got my back turned. You don’t let the first person who looks at you _scent mark_ you, Dean, fuck. Don’t you know anything? You’re nothing to him but a hole to fuck. That’s all omegas are to alphas, and when you start bending over for them that’s all they want from you, an easy hole to fuck.”

“Dad, stop, you’re fucking hurting me, okay?” Dean shouts, and finally, his dad releases his shoulder.

Dean scrambles up from the couch as his dad yells after him, “I better not smell him on you again! And clean the damn house before you go out next time.”

Dean bolts into his room, locking the door behind him and collapsing onto the floor in a heap, gagging at the scent of his dad all over him when he knows he should smell like Cas.

Knowing he needs to warn Sam that their dad’s gone off the deep end, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends him a text in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

 **DEAN:** He’s really drunk and losing control. Don’t leave ur room until he’s gone.  
**SAM:** What do you mean losing control? Are you okay?

Dean pulls his shirt off of his shoulder and looks at the bruises in the shape of fingerprints already blooming under his skin.

 **DEAN:** Couple of bruises on my shoulder, not the worst he’s been. I’m gonna hang out in my room til he goes, too. Don’t open ur door, OK? No matter what.  
**SAM:** You should call Cas. He’d come and get us, right?

Dean closes his eyes as tears threaten to spill over. Cas would come, he knows he’d come in a heartbeat, but he can’t let anything happen to Cas because of him and his dad.

 **DEAN:** They’d fight. I dunno what dad might do to him.  
**SAM:** You’re probably right. God, I hate him.  
**DEAN:** He said he wasn’t staying long so just hold tight, OK?  
**SAM:** Okay. You stay in your room, too.  
**DEAN:** That’s the plan.

He gets to his feet and pulls off his day-old clothes. There’s a faint hint of Cas’s scent still clinging to them but his dad’s overpowers it and he can’t stand it. He digs through his hamper until he finds something that smells more like Cas and rubs it over his neck, tears of frustration blurring his vision again when it still doesn’t get rid of his dad’s scent. His skin feels itchy, his bedroom _reeks_ of burnt coffee, and without knowing what else to do, he just gives up. He falls naked onto his bed with his face buried in his old shirt, crying silently until he has no tears left and eventually falls into an agitated sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** For emotional and physical abuse between Dean and John including omega shaming, pushing, bruising skin, and scent marking Dean against his will in this chapter only.


	7. Chapter 7

**_2007_ **

Castiel doesn’t hear from Dean until late that night, and instead of a phone call like he promised, it’s actually a text message explaining he’s either hung over or came down with something. Castiel’s protective instincts go into overdrive and he offers to bring over soup, hot chocolate, and medication, and when Dean says no to all of that, he suggests a hug, which also gets turned down.

Though they do text, that’s the only form of communication for the next four days, and by Friday, Castiel is convinced Dean is breaking up with him. Even worse than that, he’s sure it’s either because he did something wrong when they were intimate or because Dean really does regret that Castiel scent marked him with a bruise on his scent gland. The only thing stopping him from going completely out of his mind is that Dean keeps telling him he loves him whenever they text.

This is the longest they’ve been apart since January and it’s absolutely killing him. If it wasn’t for the way Dean’s scent has clung to his bed sheets, pillowcase, and the faint trace of it on his skin, he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to handle the time apart, and he wonders why Dean’s willing to deal with the same feeling of _wrong_ he’s experiencing when he’s dying to see him, sick or not.

He gives Dean the week, but when he insists he’s still sick on the weekend, Castiel’s officially no longer buying it. After feeling like he’s been trapped inside all week as well (an unwelcome reminder of just how lonely his life was before Dean came along), he checks Gabriel’s hockey schedule to see if he plays so he has something to do. When he sees he has a game that afternoon about to start in a half hour, Castiel grabs his jacket and his keys and decides to go. He’s sure Dean will appreciate a play-by-play via text since he’s yet to miss one of Sam’s games.

He squeezes his car into a spot next to a gleaming black boat of a classic car and hurries into the arena, hoping he didn’t miss any of the game. He can see through the glass in the lobby that both teams are still warming up, so he opens the door to their side of the rink and scouts out the stands for a seat when he sees Dean sitting in their usual seats.

He freezes in place just through the door as he tries to make sense out of what he’s seeing. Dean has been telling him all week that he’s too ill to spend time with him, but here he is sitting inside the chilly arena. He was right, Dean must have been avoiding him purposely. Well, too bad for Dean, he decides. Dean may want to break up with him, or maybe his childish behavior was an attempt to force Castiel to end things, but he’s an adult and he’s going to act like one.

With his head held high, he walks right over to where Dean is sitting and says, “Hello, Dean. Is this seat taken?”

Dean’s face is the perfect example of a deer caught in headlights. “Cas,” he says, sounding surprised. Then, as he seems to blink through it, he zips up his jacket straight up over his neck and looks away again.

Pain lances through him at the clear indication that Dean doesn’t even want him to smell him, let alone touch him, but he told himself he would be an adult about this and he’s going to be. “May I sit with you, or is our friendship over as well as our relationship?”

Dean’s head whips back to look up at him. “You came to a hockey game to break up with me?” he asks, incredulously.

Castiel tilts his head to the side, trying to understand what’s going on here. Since Dean has yet to actually object, he sits on the bench seat next to him, careful to leave more space than he usually would between them. “No,” he says once he’s settled in comfortably. “I thought you being here meant you were faking an illness to try to end things between us in a cowardly fashion. Was I wrong?”

Dean’s lips press themselves into an unusually firm line, which is when he notices how truly terrible Dean looks. It looks as if he hasn’t slept at all since he last saw him. He’s pale with dark circles beneath his eyes, and the bright green eyes he’s so used to getting lost in are heavily lidded and bloodshot. Maybe he wasn’t lying about the illness after all.

“I wasn’t trying to break up with you,” Dean says finally. “But I wasn’t really sick.”

Just when he thought he understood what was going on. “You’re obviously unwell, though,” he says gently. Dean only shrugs and turns his eyes back to the ice surface guiltily. “You haven’t been sleeping?”

Dean’s lips turn down at the only corner he can see now. “Not really.”

Dean clearly doesn’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering him, and much as it kills him not to be able to help, he also knows Dean well enough to know he won’t react to it well if he pushes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he responds. “If you want to tell me about it, I’d like to hear what’s bothering you, but we can also just watch the game if you want.”

Some of the tension bleeds out of the slight set of his shoulders. “Can we just watch for now?”

It’s a kick to the ego, no doubt about it, but he nods and looks back at the ice where both teams are now skating to their benches. “Whatever you need.”

As much as it pains him to do so, he turns his attention to the game that’s just beginning. As center (no surprise there with his long legs), Sam takes the face-off, and he notes with interest that Gabriel is now on the same line as his right defenceman. Gabriel is a scrappy little player, but he also has a wicked wrist shot and Castiel is surprised to see the change of position for him. It only takes two shifts for him to admit that Coach Singer was onto something, though, because it turns out his little brother is fantastic at defending his goaltender.

The first time Dean moves is when he leaps out of his seat after Sam scores his first goal with an assist from none other than Gabriel. They chat easily about the play, commenting on how Bobby was a genius to change Gabriel’s position, and then fall into cursing vehemently about a terrible call made against them by the referee.

They make it all the way to the first intermission before the awkwardness descends again. He didn’t notice while he was engrossed in the game, but without it to distract him, he’s suddenly incredibly aware of how strange all the space between them feels. Since their first date they’ve been very open with their affection for one another, and it’s bizarre to be sitting next to Dean without touching him at all. Feeling the chill of the arena seeping into his insides, he says, “I’ll be right back,” and stands to walk out to the snack bar.

Of course it’s not as cold inside, but he gets two hot chocolates anyway and brings one out to Dean, reminding himself the whole time that Dean said he wasn’t trying to break up with him. If Dean needs space, he can give it to him, even if it does feel uncomfortable. He offers Dean the small Styrofoam cup with a tight smile that grows as he sees the blush rise on Dean’s cheeks when he accepts it.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re too nice?” Dean asks once Castiel is seated again.

“No,” Castiel says easily, popping the lip of the plastic lid and folding it to fit into the provided groove. “But then again, I don’t typically go out of my way to do nice things for just anybody.”

“Most people probably wouldn’t buy hot chocolate for the asshole who lied to them for a week,” Dean mumbles into his hot chocolate.

Castiel opens his mouth to reply, then chuckles and explains, “I was going to say that most people probably aren’t in love with you, but that’s probably not true.”

Dean’s eyes finally lift from the hot chocolate held in his hands to meet Castiel’s. “I know it was my fault, but I really missed you. Hell, I still sorta miss you even though you’re right there.”

Castiel’s heart swells with hope. “I missed you, too. Frankly, I’m dying to be closer to you, but you zipped up your jacket so quickly when you saw me it seemed pretty clear that you didn’t even want me to smell you.”

Dean worries his bottom lip for several long seconds. “And you can’t smell me, right?”

“Not at all,” Castiel answers sadly. Despite how desperate he is to drench himself in Dean’s scent again, he hasn’t been trying overly hard considering Dean obviously doesn’t want him to, but he hasn’t gotten even the faintest whiff yet.

“I’m wearing blockers,” Dean admits quietly.

Castiel’s taken aback by this; as far as he knows, Dean’s never worn blockers before. He can only think of one reason why he might suddenly want to wear them. “Are you - is it close to - um - your -”

“No,” Dean replies, a smile tugging at his lips. “No, I’m not goin’ into heat.”

“Oh. I wondered if maybe that’s why you didn’t want to see me.”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “That woulda been a perfect excuse. Kinda pissed I didn’t think of it myself.” Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that, so he looks up at the scoreboard and sighs quietly when he sees there’s still four minutes left of intermission. As much as he’s glad to be in Dean’s company again, this has been excruciating. “I know I’ve been a total dick, and I know this is an asshole thing to ask when you don’t even know what’s going on, so seriously say no if it’s too much, but can I...” The sadness warring with hope shining in Dean’s eyes is his undoing, and he already knows even if Dean is about to ask him to cut off a limb he’ll do it without question. “Can I come close enough to smell you?”

“Yes, of course,” Castiel says gently, tipping his head to the side to offer himself to Dean. Dean slides across the space between them without hesitation, and Castiel waits eagerly for Dean to scent him for the first time in a week. But he doesn’t. He stays exactly as he is with his nose pressed against his skin and his chin resting on his shoulder, but no other parts of their bodies are touching and Dean definitely doesn’t rub his cheek or his nose along his scent gland. In fact, Dean doesn’t move a muscle until a whistle blows signalling the beginning of the second period, then he scooches right back over to where he was without a word, and Castiel works silently through feeling robbed, confused, and hurt while he also tries to concentrate on the game.

The two teams are evenly matched, and though it’s exciting with plenty of back and forth including a penalty kill by Gabriel’s team, the score is still 1-0 when the buzzer goes off at the end of the second period. He debates faking the need for a bathroom break to collect himself, but Dean beats him to it. “Need to get rid of that hot chocolate,” Dean says with a crooked smile, and then Castiel is left sitting alone.

He only lasts long enough to realize it’s quieter inside and he might have a better chance of getting Dean to talk to him there, and then he’s up and making his way to the lobby where he waits outside the bathroom for Dean.

When Dean comes out only a few seconds later wiping his hands on his jeans, Castiel says, “Dean,” quietly to get his attention. Dean stops mid-step and ducks his head before he walks over to him, which is when Castiel follows his instincts and steps forwards to draw Dean into his arms. He just looks so sad, so small, so _lost_ that he can’t help but try to comfort the man he loves. Dean only manages to stay tight with tension for a few moments before he goes lax in his arms, his fingers clinging to Castiel’s light jacket as his shoulders sag. Without thinking, Castiel places a kiss to the top of his head, his temple, then drops his mouth to kiss him on the bend of his neck, which is when he smells it.

Something terrible buried beneath the scent of leather, but more importantly, the scent of another alpha.

Rage and jealousy and betrayal all whip through him in an instant and a growl comes out of him before he can stop it. He takes a step away from Dean just so he doesn’t have to smell his omega  _like this_ for another second, but he keeps Dean’s hands in his while he takes a few cleansing breaths, forcing down the growl as he looks at the fear in Dean’s eyes.

Instead of the ineloquent,  _What the fuck?_ that was on the tip of his tongue, what ends up coming out instead is, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Dean’s eyes are narrowed in what looks like a combination of confusion and disbelief. “Wait - what?”

“My growl got away from me," he clarifies. "Please tell me why you smell like another alpha.” He means to ask it without any accusation in his tone, and he thinks he manages it, but the more his thoughts keep whirling, the more that comes out. “Tell me why you smell like another alpha after you told me you’re wearing blockers, the week after you refused to see me and admitted to lying about being sick?”

Surely it’s not how it seems... Dean wouldn’t...?

“I was afraid you’d break up with me if you knew,” Dean blurts. Castiel’s breath comes out of him all at once as he feels his heart break, and as reality sinks in, he drops Dean’s hands as he takes another step back. Dean let another alpha scent him. Dean _let_ another alpha _scent him?_ Dean... doesn’t want him to be his alpha anymore? His omega _rejected_ him? “I wanted to wait until it faded more so you wouldn’t be mad when I told you. I hated it, Cas. It felt _so wrong_ the whole time - it _still_ feels wrong a fucking week later - and I told him to stop but -”

Rage and fear rips through him now for an entirely different reason, sharper and more painful than anything he’s ever experienced. He closes the distance between himself and Dean again and lowers his voice to a whisper, “Did somebody do this to you against your will?”

“‘Course it was against my will,” Dean answers angrily, looking confused for a few seconds before his eyes widen and he huffs out a bitter sounding laugh. “Dude, no. I get why you went there, but I didn’t cheat on you.” It’s almost ridiculous how relief manages to soothe his inner alpha at the exact same time it begins to feel absolutely murderous. “Come on, Cas. I’d never.”

“What happened then? Did somebody hurt you? Are you alright? Who was it? I’ll kill them with my bare hands, Dean, I swear to god, if somebody -”

“It was my dad,” Dean says, talking over him and making him pause long enough for Dean to say it again, more quietly this time. “It was my dad, Cas, and it wasn’t like that. He didn’t rape me or something. He’s a drunk and a shitty dad, but it wasn’t like that,” he says again.

“Your dad scent marked you?” Castiel asks, still not fully understanding.

Dean nods shakily. “It was right after you dropped us off. He was fucked up and pissed off before we even got home because I was stupid and left a few glasses in the sink -“

“You are not stupid,” Castiel insists.

Dean flashes him a sideways smile, but keeps talking. “Well, Sam was giving him shit as usual so I told Sam to go cool off so I didn’t have to listen to them, then I sat down next to dad and told him about the party, and he seemed all proud when he thought I might’ve picked up somebody to fool around with so I told him I had a boyfriend and...” Castiel can actually see the way Dean folds in on himself, his shoulders hunching in and his head bowing. Whatever his father said to him at this point in their conversation clearly left a negative impression. “He told me all omegas are to alphas are holes to fuck and that I better not let you knock me up.”

He’s positively _fuming_ at hearing anybody tell Dean something like that, let alone his own father, but he takes care to speak gently since Dean is obviously already triggered by this conversation. “He never should have spoken to you like that. _Nobody_ has a right to say those kinds of things, and not even your father can tell you what you can or cannot do with your body, Dean. It’s yours and yours alone. I’m sorry you had to hear that and I hope you know that when it comes to you and I, I fell in love with you because of who you are and not your secondary gender. I would feel the same way about you if you were a beta or even another alpha, as unconventional as that may be.”

Dean nods, but Castiel can tell that there’s something he doesn’t believe in that statement by the way he still won’t meet his eyes. “Guess he smelled you on me or whatever ‘cause then he lost his fucking mind and assumed we’d already fucked. He - he bashed my head on the arm of the couch by accident when he was pushing me down and he forced me to bare my neck -”

He’s going to _kill him,_ Dean’s father or not, he’s going to snap his neck like a twig.

“And when he saw the mark you put there he kept rubbing his wrist over it, telling me I don’t listen to any alpha but him because all I am to you is an easy omega hole.” Castiel is actually speechless over a father saying that to his son, completely stunned stupid and without words. “I was trying to get away, so he had a good hold on me, you know, and he didn’t mean to but his fingers were digging into my shoulder.”

No, snapping his neck won’t do at all. John Winchester deserves a much more painful death than that.

“I told him he was hurting me and once he knew, he let me go right away. Me and Sam hid out in our rooms until he left. I - I tried getting it off of me, his scent, ‘cause it felt like - like my skin was crawling. I just got a mark from you and it was exactly what I wanted and then he took it away and I _hated_ not smelling like you, Cas. I tried to cover it with your scent from one of my old shirts, tried to wipe it off, tried showering, soap, f-fucking bleach.” His voice cracks and Castiel knows in that moment if he _ever_ lays eyes on John Winchester he’ll tear him to pieces just for that alone. “Nothing would get it off ‘till I tried blockers. I can still smell it a little but it doesn’t make me want to rip my skin off anymore at least.” Dean looks up at him, his eyes wide and sad, and Castiel loves him _so much_ it actually physically hurts to see him in pain. “I just - I couldn’t sleep ‘cause I didn’t smell like you anymore and I hated lying to you and I fuckin’ missed you _so_ damn much and I was afraid you weren’t gonna love me anymore, that you were going to reject me ‘cause I let another alpha take your claim -”

“Dean, listen to me,” Castiel says firmly, cutting off the rambling that’s breaking his heart more and more with every word. Dean’s eyes watch his carefully, nervously, with an uncertainty he needs to erase immediately. “I love you. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I’ll still love you tomorrow and the day after that. What your father did to you never should have happened and there is absolutely no way you can logically spin it to make it your fault, so please don’t apologize.” Dean looks away and Castiel knows in that moment that he doesn’t believe him, so he brings his hand to cup Dean’s face, forcing eye contact again. “Do you trust me?”

“‘Course,” Dean says quietly.

“It was not your fault.”

Dean’s lips tremble before he says, “I shouldn’t have told him about you. I thought he’d be okay with it but if I just didn’t say anything he never would’ve -”

“No, Dean,” Castiel says adamantly. “It’s imperative that you understand this. Even if you told him you just came home from an orgy with thirty different alphas he still would not have had the right to scent mark you against your will _or_ tell you that you belong to him if that’s no longer how you feel,” Castiel insists.

Dean’s voice is quiet but sure when he says, “I wanna be yours.”

All of the uncertainty of the last week is replaced with warmth as he hears those sweet words. “You are, my omega,” Castiel reminds him, stroking his cheek lovingly. “For as long as you want.”

For the first time Castiel can remember, Dean sounds almost childish when he asks, “Promise?”

Castiel pulls him into his arms to hold him securely, only now understanding how scared Dean must still be to have to ask him that. “I promise, my little coffee bean. I love you so.”

Dean’s leaning into him heavily, holding him back just as tightly as Castiel is holding him, and a large part of Castiel never wants to let him go. He never wants to let him out of his sight or to go back to the apartment where his own father could be a danger to him, but he knows he’ll have to and it’s already killing him.

“But aren’t you pissed at me?” Dean asks nervously.

“I’m not,” he answers, surprised by the truth in that. “I’m disappointed you felt like you couldn’t tell me and that you thought something like this would make me want to break up with you, but I’m not angry with you, Dean.”

“Will you scent me again, then?” Dean asks hopefully, leaning back to look up at him now. “Make me smell like you instead of him?”

“I would like nothing more,” Castiel says, fingers brushing his cheek again. “But what happens when your dad comes back? I don’t want to give him an excuse for more abusive behavior.”

Dean is already nuzzling into his hand when he answers, “He said he won’t be back for a couple of months.”

“Then, yes, I’ll scent you again, but I’d like you to make me a promise first.”

Dean stills, but says, “Okay?”

Castiel places a kiss to the middle of his palm before he laces their fingers together. “Promise me if he comes home drunk again and puts his hands on you - accidentally or otherwise - you call me the very first chance you get.”

“Cas,” Dean says, already shaking his head. “If he saw you... I don’t know what he would do to you, okay? He gets crazy aggressive sometimes and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“But it’s perfectly fine to keep yourself in danger? No.” Castiel says it firmly before Dean can even respond. “Please don’t ask me to be okay with that.”

Dean looks torn for several seconds before he counters, “Well, can you promise you’re not gonna come running over just to rip my dad’s throat out if I call you ‘cause I’m scared?”

He knows they both know the answer is no, but he offers, “As long as you’re safe, I can promise to try.”

Dean’s lips turn up into a smile. “Gotta give you points for the way you’re telling me no without actually saying it.”

“When have I ever managed to say no to you, my omega?” Castiel teases lightly, slipping his hands around his tiny waist and pulling him back against his body.

Dean keeps his head tilted up towards him, and he watches Dean’s eyelashes fan against his freckled cheeks as he takes in a deep breath. “Damn you smell good, alpha.”

Not able to hold back anymore, he dips his head to kiss Dean’s cheek and ends up finding the corner of his mouth instead when Dean turns into it. He lets his lips linger far longer than he meant to, stuck on how surreal it is to have his nose an inch from Dean’s face and still not smell the rich smell of coffee he’s so used to. He travels the soft skin covering the line of his jaw nonetheless until he reaches the spot where it meets his neck, which he nuzzles into, brushing his lips against it. The closer he gets to his scent gland the more he can smell John beneath the blocker, and once again, a growl slips out, and just like that, the ability to drag this out vanishes.

Knowing that John was so rough with Dean only makes him be more gentle, regardless of the possessiveness and urge to claim that’s already pulsing through his veins. He rubs his face along Dean’s neck slowly, wanting to make sure he doesn’t miss even the tiniest trace of John’s angry scent, and instead, feels a soul-deep satisfaction when he can still scent himself there where Dean’s hickey is fading.

“My scent is still there, sweet omega,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to the tiny spot. “Even if you couldn’t smell it, you were still mine.”

“For real?” Dean asks, sounding choked up about it.

“Mmmhmm,” Castiel replies, now unable to tear himself away from that one spot. He slides his cheek, his nose, and lips along it over and over, coating Dean in layers of his scent so thick he’ll be there for days. Only when he’s absolutely certain no other alpha has even the tiniest scent claim on his omega does he notice the faintest hint of coffee underneath it all. “There you are,” he breathes happily, sucking it in through his nostrils again. “My little coffee bean. How I missed you.”

"You - you can smell me?"

"Only a little bit, but yes. You smell like heaven."

Dean’s voice comes out in a breathless sigh. “Cas.”

He kisses his scent gland one final time before he draws away and moves back in for a kiss. To his surprise, Dean’s hand lands square on his chest and he applies enough pressure to indicate that Castiel should stop. Dean doesn’t want him to kiss him. It hurts to be denied, but he apologizes regardless. “I shouldn’t have assumed -”

Dean interrupts him with another huff of amused sounding laughter. “Seriously? Assume, Cas. Always assume I want you to kiss me.”

“I’m confused.”

“Guess the blockers are working better than you thought,” Dean says quietly, running his hands up his chest and around his neck. “You must not be able to smell my slick, because if you could, you’d know that all it’s gonna take is one kiss from you to have me ass up on all fours right here in the arena lobby.”

“Oh, really?” Castiel smirks, pleased to hear this on several levels. Even the very idea of Dean presenting to him has his cock plumping up between his legs. When Dean nods, he leans in anyway to nuzzle their noses together. He makes sure their lips _just_ miss each other when he says, “We definitely need to get these blockers off off you. I wouldn’t want to _accidentally_ -” He grazes their lips together as he says it “- do something that would make you even more slick.”

“You asshole,” Dean breathes, and then Castiel has his arms full of his omega in the very next second. Dean pulls him down by the back of his neck and takes his lips in a passionate kiss. The first taste of Dean’s unique flavor after a whole week without it has him matching Dean’s enthusiasm with his own within moments. His body moves on instinct, he’s crowding Dean against the wall and bending at his knees so their groins are lined up, and then - _oh god -_ he can feel Dean’s erection hard as fucking rock against his own quickly filling cock. Dean is moaning into his mouth, his own fingers are sinking into the supple flesh of his omega’s ass, and then Dean’s arms and legs are wrapped around him with his ass molded to the bulge of his cock.

His tongue is still plundering into Dean’s mouth, teeth clacking occasionally with the force of their kiss, and Dean is making the most arousing little sounds every time his hips rock forward. A constant loop of _mine, mine, mine_ is playing in his head and his hips match the tempo as he thrusts into the dampening denim between Dean’s legs completely mindlessly.

He’s distantly aware of somebody shouting, “Hey!” but Dean’s ankles lock behind his back, and then Dean’s squeezing his thighs together to counter his rhythm with his ass and Castiel knows it could be the Prime Minister trying to talk to him right now and he still wouldn’t stop. Dean is so receptive to his every touch, urging him on by the way he moves against him and the persistence behind his kiss, and so he keeps right on kissing him even as he senses someone approaching behind him. An intimidating growl ripples through his chest to warn the person off as he moves even closer to Dean to protect him from whoever is foolish enough to approach him when he’s got his omega slick and ready for his knot.

Dean turns his head, gasping for breath, and Castiel follows his nose straight to his scent gland, latching onto the fading bruise with his mouth and renewing his claim as Dean mewls, fingers gripping at his hair and sending a burst of pleasure/pain through his system that has him (unbelievably) right on the edge of his release.

A hand clamps down on his shoulder - a hand he knows doesn’t belong to Dean, seeing as Dean currently has both hands in his hair - and he rips his mouth away from Dean’s neck and pins the intruder with a withering glare as he bares his teeth and growls more aggressively than he ever has in his life.

“Are you in a rut, son?” the man asks, lifting his hands up in front of him in surrender.

“Get away from my omega,” Castiel snarls.

“Cas,” Dean says quietly, putting his hand on his face and making him turn towards him again. He’s not sure what that’s supposed to do other than make him want Dean even more, because his lips are already swollen from his own, the pouty set of them ten times more tempting now that they’re glistening with their combined saliva. His cheeks are a beautifully flushed pink, and those bright green eyes of his have gone dark with his arousal. He’s absolutely _gorgeous_ and Castiel wants nothing more than to ravish every inch of him. “We’re in the lobby of the arena,” Dean says quietly, nodding his head to the side, urging Castiel to follow his gaze towards a group of small children watching them with wide eyes.

Castiel’s shoulders are heaving with the effort to get himself back under control, but he applies pressure to Dean’s thighs so that he uncrosses his ankles and Castiel can set him back down on his feet. He can still feel Dean’s erection against his, but it’s nowhere near as tempting as his ass, and as the fog of arousal clears and he begins to think clearly again, he’s a confusing mixture of annoyed, turned on, and embarrassed. He drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder and sighs as the unmistakable scent of aroused alpha hangs thick in the air.

“We’re done, sorry mister,” Dean says for him, and a few seconds later, Castiel can hear the man’s retreating footsteps and the start of Dean’s quiet laughter. “Shit, Cas, that was hot as fuck.”

“You started it,” Castiel says, still feeling embarrassed over losing control like that in public.

“Good to know all I need to do is talk about presenting to get you to lose your damn mind. Who knew you were so predictably alpha when it comes to sex,” Dean teases him.

“If you knew how unbelievably sexy your ass was, omega, I’m sure you’d understand.”

“That why you’re still not letting me away from this wall?” Dean smirks.

“I think you’re fully aware of why I can’t move away from this wall right now,” Castiel says dryly.

Dean’s lips curve up into an adorable smile. “‘cause you’ve got a CN Tower situation goin’ on down there?” Castiel huffs out a laugh, looking away in embarrassment. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still all kinds of turned on by the whole possessive alpha thing. I didn’t really think you had it in you.”

Castiel exhales in exasperation. “Of course I would fall in love with the one omega who gets turned on by the instincts I’ve been trying to deny for the last six years.”

“Guess that means it’s time to embrace them then,” Dean says. He pushes up to his tiptoes, the drag of their cocks together pulling a gasp from Castiel, and whispers into his ear, “How about we ditch our little brothers after the game and we pick up where we left off in private?”

“You’re every bit as intelligent as you are beautiful,” Castiel replies, getting a husky laugh out of Dean. “But first we have to get these blockers off of you because it’s driving me crazy not being able to smell you properly.”

“Huh,” Dean comments. “You just about fucked me against the wall and you couldn’t even scent me. Who knows what woulda happened if you could?”

Castiel closes his eyes as yet another wave of desire makes itself known. “Don Cherry in a bikini. Don Cherry in a bikini. Don Cherry in a bikini.”

After a few seconds of silence from Dean, his booming laugh rings through the lobby once he figures out what exactly he’s doing, and only a minute later Castiel’s erection has deflated enough that he’s able to take Dean by the hand and lead him back to their seats where they watch the last 15 minutes of the hockey game wrapped in each other’s arms.

A few hours later, Dean and Cas are lying in Cas’s bed still naked and sticky after two incredibly fast but still mind-blowing orgasms. He and Cas were naked in record time once they got back to Cas’s place and Cas helped him wash off his blockers. All it took was a palm full of lube, Cas’s massive hand wrapped around both of their cocks at the same time, and two thick fingers up his ass for them both to come within minutes. Jesus, he literally _just_ came and still, the memory of how amazing it felt to have Cas’s stiff cock pressed against his with their skin slick and smooth and soft, and Cas’s bulging knot rubbing against his balls still has his ass damp.

“You have to stop smelling so sweet or my knot’s never going to go down,” Cas groans. His nose is buried in Dean’s scent gland, so he can feel his lips grazing his skin. He shifts back the slightest little bit and smiles when Cas presses a kiss to his throbbing bruise. “I will never tire of your scent, coffee bean.”

“Says the guy who just asked me to stop smelling so sweet,” Dean reminds him.

“I’m understandably torn. I missed the way you smell almost as much as I missed having you in my arms.”

Dean only gives into the smile because he knows Cas can’t see his face. Secretly, he loves hearing Cas say sweet and sappy shit like that, but for some reason he feels like he isn’t supposed to because it’s too girly or needy or something. Probably because of his dad, he realizes suddenly. Then as soon as he has the thought, he feels cold and wrong all over. He just did exactly what his dad was accusing him of, didn’t he? He was an easy omega hole for Cas. He hasn’t seen Cas in a week and the first thing they did when they saw each other was make out at the arena and then come here to get each other off.

“What’s wrong, omega?” Cas asks, probably picking up on the way his scent is quickly turning bitter.

“Nothin’, it’s fine.”

“I can tell that it’s not, but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” There’s a heavy silence between them for a few seconds before Cas says, “We should get dressed.”

“No, don’t,” Dean whines, snuggling in even closer.

“I’m not rejecting you, Dean, I’m just not comfortable lying here naked with you when you’re upset,” Cas says quietly. “I don’t know if I’ve done something wrong and you’re upset with me, if you feel pressured into what we just did now that you’ve had time to think about it or what, but I’d feel better with clothes on because of it.”

“Just - just gimme a minute, okay?” Dean asks, covering the hand of Cas’s that’s still slung low around his waist. “Being skin to skin helps,” he admits quietly.

“Come here, then,” Cas says, rolling over onto his back and gesturing for Dean to snuggle in. Dean goes willingly, nudging his way in until his nose is resting perfectly against Cas’s scent gland. Not surprisingly, it’s only a few minutes before Cas’s scent and the way Cas is rubbing his back has him mellowed out, and he feels safe and loved enough to tell him what he was thinking.

“I was thinking about what my dad said about omegas,” he says quietly.

Cas is quiet for a moment, but ultimately answers, “I feel pretty safe saying the chances of you getting pregnant from what we just did are exceptionally low.”

Dean breathes out a small laugh. “No, the other part. About how omegas are just holes for alphas, just bitches in heat who like to take it up the ass.”

“Please tell me you don’t believe that,” Cas says softly. “Not about yourself. Not about me.”

“Not about you.” That’s true. He’s never thought Cas was only in this for sex. Hell, if Dean had his way they probably would’ve had sex fifty times by now, but it’s Cas who wants to wait.

“You think so little of yourself, Dean? Truly?” Cas whispers, sounding devastated.

“I - I dunno,” he admits quietly. “I didn’t see you for a whole week, you know, and then one of the first things I did when we saw each other was throw myself at you. At the rink and here.”

“My sweet bean,” Cas says, kissing his temple. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Most people feel like that at seventeen. Male or female, alpha, omega, mated or unmated, it doesn’t matter. Your hormones are out of control the first few years after your secondary gender presents until you get into a more regular schedule for your heats. Don’t they still teach you this stuff in school?”

“Never paid much attention in health class,” Dean admits. “I was the only male omega so I felt like the teacher chick was talking directly to me and all the other kids were laughing or cracking jokes under their breath, so I just blocked it out all together.”

“Well, if it helps at all, I can say with absolute certainty that being unbearably horny is totally normal at your age because I was exactly the same way.”

“Yeah right, you were probably still Mr. In Control all the damn time.”

Cas laughs lightly. “On the contrary, I’m pretty sure I had an erection for 20 out of 24 hours a day every day until I turned nineteen.”

Dean snorts with laughter of his own. “You’re exaggerating.”

“If I told you all of the different things I tried fucking in this very bedroom just to stimulate my knot you’d probably break up with me here and now,” Cas admits, drawing a real laugh out of him which causes Cas to laugh, too. “If I had met you when I was your age... well, I guess that doesn’t work since you would have been a child and I’m suddenly disgusted with myself.”

Dean chuckles at the reminder of the five years between them. “Okay, stop thinking that way and think about what would happen if you met me when we were both 17?”

“I feel sure you would have been able to talk me into taking you in every dark corner we could find just by batting those eyelashes at me, and I _still_ wouldn’t have thought of you as only a hole.” Dean’s smile falls some at the reminder of why they were talking about this in the first place. “You’re so much more than that, and if you need me to, I will spend every minute of every day telling you all of the different ways you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. I’m constantly in awe of you, Dean Winchester.”

Cas’s scent is warm, like melted chocolate, and because he knows that means he can’t possibly be lying, he can feel his eyes mist over. He blinks it away before he starts crying for real and says, “I’m sorry I lied to you about, you know, last week. I shoulda known you wouldn’t be mad at me, ‘cause you’re not like that.”

“Thank you for saying so,” Cas says, kissing the top of his head again. “You’re forgiven, my love.”

His heart’s pounding, but he feels like if he’s ever going to admit to this it will be right now. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anybody else even if we break up?”

“I promise not to tell anybody even if you break up with me,” Cas echoes.

Dean pauses at the obvious loophole. “What if you break up with me?”

“That’s irrelevant because I’d never break up with you,” Cas says easily.

A stupid smile spreads on his face in time with his heart filling dangerously fast. Dean can feel Cas’s chest expand as he takes in a deep breath, and there’s a renewed heat on his cheeks because he knows Cas is smelling how ridiculously happy he feels after hearing Cas say that.

“We’ve only been dating a few months. How do you know that? What if you stop liking me?”

Cas huffs out a quiet huff. “I have been drawn to you from the moment I met you, and that was before I got to know you. Now that I know what a big heart you have and how smart and wonderful you are, I can’t imagine voluntarily saying goodbye to you.”

“It ain’t like I’m something special,” Dean says quietly.

“That’s completely untrue, though it does remind me that there’s something particularly endearing about you being completely unaware of just how amazing you are.”

“So you’re telling me all I gotta do to keep you around for as long as I want is not break up with you?” Dean deflects.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Cas confirms. “And though I’m sure you can tell, the fact that you smell so happy right now is only increasing my own happiness.”

“You smell like a chocolate factory,” Dean quips, but there’s no denying that he fucking loves it. “I love you so damn much.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” Cas disagrees. “But what is it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Well, seems kinda irrelevant now, but, uh... my dad always tried to raise me and Sam to be tough, you know? Cars, girls, rock music, sports, and beer is what he wanted us to think makes a _real_ man.”

There’s an air of disbelief in Cas’s voice when he says, “That’s...”

“I know,” Dean says with a laugh. “But I guess going my whole life hearing him say stuff like that kinda sunk in, and it wasn’t until I presented as an omega that I realized the whole macho man thing wasn’t really gonna work for me.”

“That’s not true. You can be as macho as you want to be regardless of your secondary gender,” Cas points out.

“That’s kinda what I’m fumbling through trying to say,” Dean explains. “When I’m with you... I don’t... there’s no part of me that wants to be macho like my dad wants me to be.”

“Then I don’t want you to be like that either,” Cas says, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I want you to be who you really are.” The fact that he _knows_ Cas is telling the truth makes it so much easier to keep talking.

“My dad always made me think that it was girly or feminine or like I was a stupid bitch in heat or something for wanting affection.” Hit with the ghost of a memory, he says, “Hell, even when we were really little and Sam would scrape his knee and want a hug or something, my dad would stop me from comforting him, barking out some shit about how we’re Winchesters so to suck it up.”

“That’s terrible,” Cas says quietly. “My mother was never very nurturing, but the hired help always was. I still got a hug from whoever was around when I was hurt and they weren’t even my parents.”

“I don’t want you to think my dad’s a shitty guy, ‘cause he’s not, not really. It’s just his drinking that makes him act that way,” Dean tries to explain. Cas stays suspiciously quiet and Dean’s sure he doesn’t believe him, but that’s okay. He probably wouldn’t believe him if he was Cas, either. “Anyway. This is still fuckin’ hard to say, but I just... I wanted to tell you that I know I roll my eyes and push you away sometimes or call you a loser or something when you’re being all sappy, but that’s only ‘cause my whole life I was told I wasn’t supposed to like it.”

“But you do,” Cas says for him, and god, if it was possible, he would love him more just for saying the one thing that he was still struggling to get out.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I do. I love it with you.”

Cas’s voice sounds oddly amused when he says, “That’s lucky, isn’t it?”

“Why do you sound so... laughy?”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, sobering quickly. “I promise I’m not laughing at you, it’s just adorable to hear you tell me you enjoy being close to me and me telling you how much I adore you as if it was some kind of confession.” Dean doesn’t say anything, waiting for Cas to fill in the blanks, which he does a moment later. “Little bean, your scent is never so warm and full of joy as it is when we’re close like we are now.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re hot and naked,” Dean points out.

“No, it’s not,” Cas chuckles. “Or at least not entirely. You’re this happy when we’re curled up completely clothed on the couch watching hockey, too, or holding hands in the car, or that first time I put my arm around you at the Ice Follies.”

That explains the change in mood that night. “No wonder you were all handsy after that,” Dean comments.

“It’s impossible to resist making you happy, my omega.”

Dean’s smiling when he points out, “Sounds like a lotta work to commit to for the guy who just said he’s never gonna break up with me.”

“Believe me, a lifetime of making you happy would be a lifetime well spent.”

“A lifetime, huh?” Dean asks, liking the way that sounds.

“Yeah, why not?” Cas answers airily, giving him a little squeeze.

“What would a lifetime with your old ass look like?” Dean wonders.

“More hair and sagging skin, I would imagine.” Cas says it so seriously that it takes him a second to realize he’s talking about his actual ass before he starts laughing.

“You’re such a loser,” Dean complains, tipping his face up for a kiss. Cas complies eagerly, and they share a long, sweet kiss that feels... significant somehow.

“I like how you’ve managed to turn that into an endearment,” Cas smiles once they’ve broken apart.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Really though. What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“I _am_ grown up,” Cas reminds him with a gentle pinch to his backside that makes him laugh. “I didn’t know for the longest time, but lately I’ve been thinking that I might like to be a teacher.”

“Shit,” Dean says breathlessly. He sees Cas’s frown and explains, “Sorry, just imagining how distracting it would’ve been if you were my teacher.”

Cas is smiling again when he says, “For us both. I’ve been looking into applying for college in September.”

“Here?” Dean asks, his heart suddenly in his throat.

“As if I’d even consider leaving you,” Cas answers, his voice as soft as his expression. Dean smiles and Cas bends his neck for another quick kiss. “Yes, I’ll stay in town for you and for Gabriel, even keep living in my mother’s house so Gabriel won’t have to switch schools.”

Dean shoots him a grin. “Be kinda hot to date a college guy.”

“Well, your wish is my command,” Cas says, grinning right back. “I have to get accepted now.”

“Like it’ll be hard for a brainiac like you,” Dean tells him. “So once you’re the teacher every kid has a crush on, you wanna stay in town?”

“I’ve never really thought about moving,” Cas admits. “What do you want to do when you grow up? After you graduate this summer?”

Dean chuckles at the question, knowing he actually does have to grow up first, unlike Cas. “Probably a mechanic or something to do with cars or math. I'm pretty decent at keeping Baby up and running, so it’d be cool if I could maybe work on other classic cars or something. I dunno,” he finishes lamely.

“I didn’t know you were that interested in cars.”

“Yeah, cars, hockey, and math are pretty much the only things I’m good at.”

“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you not to speak so poorly of my brilliant boyfriend.” Cas punctuates that teasing comment with a poke to his ribs.

“Whatever,” Dean answers, but he’s smiling because he likes knowing that Cas thinks so highly of him, even if he’s totally wrong.

“So in this dream future of ours, I’m a teacher, you’re a mechanic, and we stay in the city?” Cas wonders.

“This is the only place that’s ever felt like home, so yeah. I’d like to stay here I think. If one of us wins the lottery, it’d be kinda cool to live on the lake though,” Dean confesses. “Maybe somewhere just outside of town. All that land would be pretty awesome. Plus we could have our own outdoor rink out there so I could keep your old man ass in shape.” His face turns red as he quietly adds, “Maybe teach a couple of pups to skate or let them run around in the grass.”

“You want children?” Cas asks, sounding surprised.

“Not any time soon or anything,” Dean says quickly. “But I figure if I gotta go through all these damn heats I might as well get something out of them, though. Besides, I basically raised Sammy and he’s a good kid. I don’t think I’d screw up a kid any worse than anybody else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re a naturally nurturing person, Dean, you’d make a wonderful parent.”

“You, uh, want pups?” Dean wonders, trying not to make it sound like he’s asking if he wants to have pups with him even though that’s obviously what they’re talking about.

“To be honest, I’ve never really felt the urge, but I’m not against the idea entirely. Maybe once I’m done with school and out of this house I’ll feel more like an adult and will want those kinds of things. But if, far, _far_ into the future,” Cas says, teasing him a little, “we’re happily mated and pups are something you want, of course I’d give that to you.”

“Well, yeah,” Dean grins happily. “‘cause you can’t say no to me.”

“I hope after ten years or so I would have been able to work up some sort of an immunity to your charm!” Cas says with a bit of a laugh.

Maybe it’s cocky of him, but he really can’t see it. He’s smiling when he places a kiss to the bolt of Cas’s jaw, and because he smells so damn good when he’s this happy, he leaves a trail of kisses down his neck until he can scent him again. Every time he’s reminded that he has his alpha’s scent on him again he feels a sense of _right_ settle inside of his chest. This is how he’s supposed to smell, he’s absolutely sure of it.

The hand that he isn’t using to prop himself up rubs his scent onto Cas’s bare chest, drifting down until it rests possessive and low on the strip of Cas’s skin beneath his belly button. Because his face is still pressed to Cas’s neck, he can smell it the instant the buttery blueberry scent starts heating up and pouring out of him in waves. He grins before he sucks gently on his skin, his hand sneaking lower, centimeter by centimeter until his fingers find the wiry patch of pubic hair.

Cas’s breath hitches and Dean chuckles, feeling powerful and desired, and when Cas tips his head up with his fingers under his chin, Dean sinks into Cas’s heated blue gaze.

“I love you, Dean.” But then Cas’s eyebrows pinch together and he looks confused for a few seconds while he holds eye contact. Dean doesn’t say anything, comfortable waiting for Cas to explain what he’s thinking, when finally, he nods slightly. A smile curves his pale pink lips, and he adds, “I will always love you, my omega.”

Dean’s heart fills so fast it feels like it’s going to burst. “Promise?”

“Always.”

And with their mingling blueberry and coffee scents surrounding him feeling more like home and mate with every breath he takes, he realizes he believes in Cas’s promise more than he’s believed in anything in his life. So maybe that’s why, as his mouth starts following the path his hand just made down Cas’s chest and between his legs, every shitty thing his dad’s ever said about his secondary gender is completely obliterated and he feels no shame at all over being an omega or knowing how long he’s wanted to do this for Cas.

He keeps eye contact as he kisses the crease of his leg, absolutely loving the way Cas’s jaw drops as he takes his rapidly thickening cock into his hand to steady it.

Cas is looking at him like he’s the best thing that ever happened to him, and when he realizes Cas has already looked at him like this a half dozen times tonight alone _before_ he had his dick in his hands, he breathes out, “Same, alpha. Always.”

Cas’s too-blue eyes are glistening now and Dean honestly never imagined he’d find love like this, and sure as fuck not when he was 17, but he’s light-years away from complaining. Cas is his alpha, his one and only, and he’s done being ashamed of wanting to be everything Cas thinks he is.

Especially because Cas lets out the filthiest moan he’s ever heard as he takes the plump head of his cock into his mouth for the first time, and if Cas flooding his mouth with salty-sweet cum only minutes later is any indication, he just found a fourth thing he’s really, _really_ good at.


	8. Chapter 8

**_2019_ **

If Dean didn’t know better, he’d swear he was waking up in 2007. The bedroom smells like sex and Cas, Cas’s arms are wrapped around him making him feel safe and loved, and Cas’s nose is pressed snugly to his scent gland. It’s literally everything he’s dreamed of having since he lost it, and as much as a massive part of him is soothed by being back with Cas where he belongs, he hates that he only has it because of his heat.

He doesn’t even have time to soak it up, to do what he really wants to do and lie here to drench himself in Castiel’s bright, warm scent until he’s literally pried out of Cas’s arms, because apparently his heat has decided to get itself out of his system while he was still sleeping.

He and Cas are still lying face-to-face and Cas’s arms are wrapped firmly around him, but their dicks are both hard and slotted together, too. It seems like they’ve been rutting together because he can feel Cas’s knot swollen at the base, his ass greasy with slick, and his short fingernails digging into Castiel’s back as he frantically works himself against him.

Distantly, he knows this is probably walking the line of what Cas would be comfortable with, but (as far as he knows, anyway) he didn’t start it and the building scent of oven-hot blueberry muffins in the air is telling him Cas is enjoying this almost as much as he is.

But even though he can’t make himself stop, he knows he needs to wake Cas up so he can back off if he wants to. “Cas,” Dean says, nudging his nose away from his neck so he can scent Cas instead. Jesus fuck he smells good, and every breath only makes Dean want him more and more. “Cas,” Dean says again, leaving open mouthed kisses across his exposed collarbone and up the long column of his throat.

Tasting the dried but still sweet sweat on Cas’s skin reminds him of how there isn’t an inch of Cas that he hasn’t had his mouth on, and probably not coincidentally, just how slick he is for him. Cas has filled out to be the most gorgeous alpha he could have imagined, and he loses himself in tracing the defined muscle in his shoulders with his finger tips, wanting to be just as familiar with his body now as he was as an overeager teenager.

Cas groaning with pleasure is what brings him back to himself, and he sharpens his tone of voice. “Cas, wake up.”

“Dean?” Cas asks, meeting Dean’s next roll of his hips with one of his own and then cursing vehemently. _“Holy shit,_ Dean.”

“Cas, please,” Dean pleads, latching onto his neck and starting to suck a bruise into his skin. _Mine, mine, mine_ echoes in his head. Cas rolls them over until Dean’s under him and for a second he’s worried he’s going to stop, but Cas only pulls away to catch his lips in a deep kiss that sears him right to his soul. Dean kisses him back with everything he has, letting one hand drift up to bury itself in his crazy hair, the other hand desperately pushing up the back of his shirt and gripping onto the firm muscles straining as Cas thrusts against him.

Cas is bracing his upper body on his elbow but one big hand is burning hot on his hip and Dean feels it clench tight before he groans and releases him. Dean sucks on his tongue, moaning to encourage him to keep going, and a few seconds later Cas’s fingers are digging into his hip a second time before Cas seems to lose the internal battle and they start sliding slowly towards his ass. Dean grinds against him even harder, a desperate cry torn from his throat as he thinks about those thick fingers inside of him again. Cas’s hand cups his ass cheek and they both make simultaneous sounds of pleasure as he palms his flesh, kneading that one handful just the way he likes it with skillful fingers.

Dean breaks their kiss for the first time because he’s overcome with so much pleasure he can’t do anything but throw his head back and mewl. In the very next breath, Cas’s mouth is hot and wet on the bite mark he gave him, forcing his breath out in a whoosh while Dean wildly thrusts up against him. Cas’s fingers are getting closer and closer to his hole, he must be feeling his slick on them by now and Dean’s figuratively biting his tongue, both wanting to beg him to touch him and afraid if he says anything he’ll break the spell. He decides to speak with his body instead and wraps one leg around Castiel’s waist, causing his cheeks to part the slightest bit and now he feels Castiel’s teeth sharp on his neck.

“Dean, I can’t,” Cas whispers hoarsely. “I want to touch you _so bad,_ but not like this.”

“Jesus, you’re a stubborn son of a bitch,” Dean complains, hips still rocking against Cas’s. “Can’t you feel how slick I am for you?”

“It’s the heat,” Cas says, kissing his way back to capture his mouth in another bruising kiss.

“Nuh-uh,” Dean argues against his lips. “S’not.” But his stomach tightens with a sudden, intense cramp and he calls out in pain. “Knot, I need your knot,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath again.

Cas sits up on both hands and looks around for the toy, finding it off to the side and immediately causing Dean’s scent to turn bitter. “No,” he complains. “I don’t want it. I want _you,_ alpha.”

Cas takes in an obvious breath through his mouth, then responds, “I want you, too, Dean. More than anything.”

“So take me,” Dean says emphatically. “I’m beggin’ you, Cas, _please.”_

“Spread your legs for me, omega. Let me see that pretty hole of yours,” Cas asks him, and jesus, just hearing Cas talk like that is enough to make him feel like he’s gushing slick. He does as Cas asks, hoping that’s enough to tempt Cas beyond his control, but all he hears is a soft moan as Cas’s eyes stare hungrily at his hole as he inserts the toy.

“I wish it was me, Dean. I wish I just spent hours, _days,_ licking you open, and right now I was feeling you stretch and clench around me.”

Dean clenches around the toy automatically, closing his eyes and trying to trick himself into thinking it’s Cas, that he just came on his alpha’s tongue the same way he has so many times before. He whimpers, wanting him, needing him closer. He reaches for him, making a sound of annoyance when he feels the damn t-shirt. “Take it off. Take it all off and let me feel you next to me. Wanna - wanna pretend it’s really you,” he admits quietly.

Cas doesn't wait at all, just tears it off and then looks down at his crotch, drawing Dean's eyes to a large white, wet spot. “My pants are, um...” Cas grimaces and Dean nods encouragingly. “Would you - would you be comfortable...?”

“Take it all off,” Dean answers, heat slamming into him harder than ever at the thought. When Cas hesitates, he adds, “It’ll help, skin to skin.”

“I’m still not going to knot you -”

“I don’t care, I just wanna feel you,” he interrupts. Next thing he knows, Cas is shucking off his pants, and Dean’s staring without reservation, sweeping his eyes up and down Cas’s naked body. _“Fuck me._ Just look at you, alpha. So fucking hot.” Cas crawls back onto the bed and Dean’s skin feels like it’s burning where Cas’s thighs bracket his, thick and muscular and fucking _naked,_ and he moans long and loud. He almost believes it’s Cas inside of him again as the toy slides home a second time. The skin-to-skin is exquisite, Cas’s heavy weight settles on top of him and that’s even better, and _fuck,_ there’s that monster alpha cock bare and burning hot right next to his.

He’s so incredibly wet he feels like he’s actually dripping and all he can smell is sex and Cas. Then Cas is kissing him, licking into his mouth and moving on top of him, and okay, _yeah._ Yeah, this is good. This is really goddamn good. The noises that come out of him are frequent and enthusiastic and the way Cas keeps saying his name drives him higher and higher each time he hears it fall off of his lips. Cas’s thighs slap against his and Cas kisses down his neck as he fucks him with the toy over and over, slowly increasing the pace thrust by thrust.

“Look at me,” Cas demands, and Dean opens his eyes to see Cas’s hair growing damp with sweat and his face flushed. “Are you going to come for me, my omega?”

“Close,” Dean answers, slamming his eyes closed as Cas nails his prostate. _“Oh fuck,_ really close.”

Like those were the magic words, the knot pops and he _howls_ as he feels his orgasm reach its peak. His body locks up, his skin flashes burning hot, his cock is fit to burst... but nothing happens. “Fuck, _harder,”_ Dean grits out desperately. Cas shoves the toy inside of him as deep as it will go still expanded and he angles it just right so it grinds into his prostate and it feels _amazing..._ but still nothing.

He cries out as in frustration and grinds his teeth as he makes eye contact with Cas. The obvious resolution to his problem is staring back at him with wide, worried eyes. “Need _you,_ alpha. I need to come so bad and _I can’t -_ I don’t think I can without you.”

“Dean,” Cas says, and his voice sounds broken, helpless. Dean’s scent has a bitter edge to it as Cas presses the button again to deflate the knot, and after he shoves it deeper, it expands once again. It’s _so good_ but it’s not enough, not even when Cas tries fucking him with it again with the knot still popped.

Dean reaches up and grabs Cas by the back of the neck, plastering their lips together and kissing him with everything he’s got, feeling the way Cas's body melts into his and his own scent levels out with the contact. He guides Cas’s mouth down his jaw and over to his neck where he sucks and licks at Dean’s scent gland.

“Smell how sweet I get for you, Cas? I don’t want that fake knot, I want _your_ knot, alpha.”

“I want to,” Cas confesses against his neck, sparking a fire low in his groin.

“Son of a bitch, I want you to. Never had another alpha, Cas. Only ever wanted you. Waited for you this whole time.”

“Dean,” Cas whines.

“Twelve damn years,” Dean reminds him, reaching down to wrap his hand around where Cas is currently holding onto the knot. Cas lets him have his way and Dean presses the button to deflate it and pull it out. “I waited for you ‘cause I’m yours. You know I’m yours. Make me yours, alpha.”

“Dean, _I can’t -”_ Dean drops the knot on the bed and pushes Cas firmly by the shoulders. Cas resists for half a second before his eyes go wide and haunted, his scent rapidly turning rotten as he tries to scramble away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

“Would you stop worrying for two seconds and _scent me?”_ Dean huffs. He sees Cas’s nostrils flare and asks, “You know my scent better than anyone. Am I confused, upset, pissed off? Am I about to kick you outta bed, alpha?”

“No,” Cas says quietly. “You smell... I’ve never smelled anything better.”

Dean’s lips curve into a smile, still pleased to hear Cas thinks so even after all this time, and he sits up to press his lips to Cas’s gently. Cas is up on his knees between Dean’s legs with his eyebrows creased in confusion, and Dean rolls over carefully, getting onto his stomach before pushing up onto all fours. He hasn’t presented for anybody _but_ Cas, which means it’s been twelve fucking years, but it’s instinct as much as it is muscle memory when his legs spread and his back curves. Instead of bowing his head submissively, he shoots a cocky smirk over his shoulder as he wiggles his ass invitingly.

Cas moves so impossibly fast it’s like he’s a blur of tanned muscle. Dean feels hands on his hips, hot breath on his neck, and Cas’s solid weight curled over his back all in one heart stopping moment. Cas’s cock naturally settles just between Dean’s legs and Dean’s already shifting his hips, moving around and trying to get it exactly where he needs it as Cas _finally_ scents him, running his face along Dean’s neck, nipping at his skin, and sending sparks of pleasure down his spine.

“Presenting for me when you smell like this is hardly fair,” Cas grits out with a clenched jaw.

“Did it work?” Dean pants, still rocking his hips. “I'm sorta out of practice.”

Cas’s teeth clamp down on the juncture of his shoulder as he growls, his fingers digging almost painfully into his hips. “Don’t make me think about you presenting to anybody else. You’re _my_ omega. I can’t stand - anybody else - seeing you like this,” he bites out.

Dean’s voice comes out as a strangled cry as he feels the head of Cas’s cock kiss his hole. “Didn’t,” he gasps, trying to remember how to breathe through just how badly he wants Cas to keep going. “Only presented for you. Yours.”

And then it feels like time itself stops and he’s frozen in place. Every sensation disappears into nothingness, leaving him acutely aware of the way his alpha’s warm, thick cock is sinking into his slick hole, splitting him open with his girth and filling him up so fucking good he can barely even process the unprecedented pleasure.

“Ohhhh _fuck._ Fuck _yes,”_ Dean breathes, rocking back into Cas to feel his knot straining against his rim. “Oh my god, alpha, so good.”

“Dean,” Cas sighs, frantically scenting him again and again. “My omega.”

The words tear through him like fire, and paired with the feeling of his alpha buried deep inside of him again, he’s not even a little bit surprised when his orgasm sneaks up on him out of nowhere. Between one breath and the next, his mouth is hanging open in a silent scream of ecstasy and he’s shaking head to toe, clenching hard around Cas’s cock and shooting all over the bed beneath him.

“Jesus, Dean,” Cas groans, still scenting him desperately. “You smell so good. You’re so beautiful. So perfect. You’re everything, Dean, _everything.”_

“I missed you,” Dean answers hoarsely, fighting back tears as he trembles his way through the aftershocks. He wonders if Cas feels the shifting inside of him that’s gotta be the shards of his heart fusing back together the same way he does. If he feels complete not only physically now, but mind and soul too, like the gaping hole in his life that’s been aching and empty for the last twelve years finally found what it’s been missing all this time. “I missed you so damn much.” His voice breaks at the end and he turns his head to ask silently for a kiss so that he stops blubbering. Cas indulges him, kissing him with such a heavy mix of tenderness and desperation that the first tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. When their lips part, their eyes open and Cas wipes the single tear away, kissing the wet trail left behind and nuzzling into his temple.

“As truly breathtaking as you are on your hands and knees, can you turn over for me so I can see your face, coffee bean?”

Dean’s heart fills dangerously fast, and as his cheeks warm up with his embarrassment, he tries to cover it up by turning the humiliating sob into a shaky laugh. He gives Cas a little shove with his shoulder and lies, “I still hate that,” as he flips back over onto his back.

Cas has one of his favorite gummy smiles on his face when he positions himself between the vee of Dean’s open legs. “No you don’t,” he disagrees softly.

All Dean can do as his heart threatens to explode out of his chest is wrap his arms around Cas’s neck, pulling him in until their lips come back together. As Cas’s lips work against his, Dean runs one hand from the back of his neck over his firm shoulder blade, and down his dampened, sweaty spine, greedily learning every inch of the new broader shape of his alpha. When another twinge of heat cramps in his stomach, he reaches down with his free hand and wraps it around Cas’s cock. The sharp inhale from his alpha prompts him to stroke his length, matching Castiel’s groan when he thumbs over the leaky head and feels the proof of how turned on Cas is. Cas drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder with a muffled curse, then peppers kisses against his skin, leaving a trail of fire behind as he goes.

Dean’s hole is throbbing, his heat begging him to move this along, and he gives in by guiding Cas’s cock back into him. Cas bottoms out in a single steady thrust that has Dean tossing his head back, completely unable to form words or thoughts with how fucking full he is, when Cas’s mouth goes right back to his scent gland coaxes out another burst of his sweet brown sugar scent into the air.

Cas breathes in deep, beginning to drop a line of open mouthed kisses up his neck and back to his mouth where he hums into their kiss. “God you’re tight.”

Dean laughs against his mouth. “Havin’ deja vu over here.”

Cas’s blue gaze goes unbearably soft before he responds, “You’re still as unbelievably perfect now as you were then.”

“And you’re still a sappy lay,” Dean teases him, his go-to response when Cas turns him into a puddle of mush.

“Who probably won’t last much longer now than I did our first time,” Cas admits with a bit of a laugh, and Dean chuckles at the memory as he accepts another kiss.

“Better make it count, then, huh?” he asks with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Are you sore at all?”

“Nuh uh,” Dean says with a shake of his head. “Feel _amazing._ We still fit.”

“Of course we do,” Cas says easily, brushing his lips against his temple. “I know it’s too late to go back now, but we don’t have to keep going if you’re not entirely sure -”

“I’m _entirely_ fucking sure,” Dean insists. Then he lifts his hand to sweep Cas’s bangs off of his forehead, purposely being gentle to show him he’s still in control. “Make love to me, Cas.”

Cas smiles fondly and urges Dean to wrap his legs around his waist before he pulls out and slides back in. Cas starts slow, his forehead braced against Dean’s, staring into his eyes as he starts a gentle but satisfying rhythm. “Mine,” Cas says softly, reverently, causing warmth to flood through Dean’s chest. Cas’s hand caresses Dean’s hip, and as Cas’s knot grinds against his rim after another thrust, Dean turns his head to scent him.

“Mine,” Dean echoes. Cas kisses his shoulder and his collarbone, moving inside of him so fucking deep, moaning when Dean seals his mouth over his gland and sucks.

“Yours,” Cas promises. “Always. You feel so impossibly good, my omega.”

“Mmmm,” Dean agrees. “Little harder, though, you're not gonna break me now.” The very next thrust has more force behind it, sending an intense jolt of desire through him and straight to his already revived cock. _“Yes.”_ Cas snaps his hips a second time, starting a slightly harder tempo that has Dean clinging to his broad shoulders in a matter of minutes.

“I missed you,” Cas says again, catching his lips in a messy kiss that Dean takes control of by winding his fingers into Cas’s hair and realigning their lips. Cas moans against his mouth and Dean flicks his tongue against Cas’s, inhaling their combined scents with every breath, lifting his hips to meet his next piercing thrust halfway. The seal of their mouths is broken when Cas shudders out a breath, but they don’t move away. Their foreheads bump, noses brush, and breaths mingle between them as they stare into each other’s eyes. “I never stopped missing you.” They move together seamlessly, as easily as if they’ve been doing this every day for their entire lives exactly the way they should’ve been all along.

Dean’s fingers are still in Castiel’s hair, but he’s not tugging anymore, he’s just combing through it, willing himself to memorize the feeling of his sweat damp hair running between his fingers, the look of adoration and awe in the most unbelievable pair of blue eyes he’ll ever see, the sound of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin as he’s brought closer and closer to his peak with each synchronized joining of their bodies. He’s so completely overtaken by feelings, memories, and sensation that his heat is nothing but a distant thought now, so far back in the recess of his mind it’s as if it doesn’t exist at all.

There’s no room for his heat when his everything is so entirely focused on Cas, on his mate. On Cas’s one wandering hand, how it moves from Dean’s hip up his side between one thrust and the next, then down his arm until Cas finds his hand where their fingers tangle together. Dean goes with it when it’s lifted between them and smiles as Cas presses a kiss to the back of his hand, to each freckled knuckle, one by one, with blue eyes locked on his filling with tears and projecting how much he loves him as clearly as if he was speaking the words directly into his ear.

“Always.” Dean’s voice is so low it’s almost silent but he can tell Cas hears him by his trembling exhale.

“Always,” Cas echoes.

Their entwined hands hit the mattress over Dean’s head as Cas’s lips catch his in a soul-searing kiss, and when his eyes close again he can see them together like this ten, twenty, thirty years from now, still so in love that they’ll never be able to get enough of each other no matter how long they have. It’s all he’s ever wanted, all he’s dreamed about since he was dragged away from Cas twelve years ago.

Cas brings him back to the present when he pulls out almost entirely, getting up onto his knees now and pulling Dean’s lower back up off of the mattress. The back of his thighs drape over Castiel’s, and Dean’s chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths of anticipation, knowing exactly why Cas is positioning himself like this. Cas’s eyes are almost liquid hot with arousal when he drives deep inside, nailing his prostate like a bulls eye and making him call out with white-hot pleasure.

He’s aware of Cas’s knot swelling more and more every time he pounds inside of him, getting bigger and bigger, pushing against his slickened rim as Dean begs him for more with the arch of his back and his ankles locked around his back. A sharp twist of heat makes itself known for the first time since Cas mounted him and he’s about to beg him to knot him again when Cas suddenly breaks the silence.

“I’m not wearing a condom,” Cas seems to realize.

Pain and loss slam into him so fast it steals his breath for several long seconds. Finally, he’s able to whisper. “It doesn’t matter.” He knows that from the sound of his voice and the way his scent is already beginning to turn bitter that Cas will know it isn’t a lust-filled declaration. “I - I can’t have -” He stops moving, his eyes squeezed closed to keep the tears inside as the muscles in his back tense. “I’m sorry, I shoulda told you before. You deserve an omega who can give you everything. 'm sorry, but I can’t - I can never have -”

“It's alright, coffee bean,” Cas says steadily, his scent not wavering the slightest bit. “You’re still my omega, sweetheart.” Relief is evident in not only Dean’s scent, but the way he grinds his ass against Cas and picks up right where he left off, taking Cas into him smooth and deep. “And now I can knot you the way you really want me to, right? With nothing between us for the first time. See how perfect you are? Always so perfect for me, omega.”

“Don’t - don't deserve you.” His voice is rough with emotion, and as Cas drops his forehead to Dean’s and closes his eyes, Dean strokes his back and kisses him chastely in thanks. Cas kisses his lips and right between his eyebrows before he drops his nose to scent along Dean’s neck, scent marking him all over again and letting him know without a doubt that he still wants him.

Dean’s broken, “Thank you,” would be enough to kill the mood any other time, but desperation is clawing itself back up from where everything else buried it and Cas is still fucking him hard and deep and fucking _bare_ for the first time ever, so the buildup is inevitable. “Harder,” Dean whispers, and Cas _impales him_ with his next thrust.

A fresh flood of slick gushes out around Cas’s massive cock as he drives into him again and again, setting a punishing pace now that satisfies his heat and his need to be taken by his alpha. Cas pulls out almost entirely and slams back in, filling him perfectly over and over, exactly the way he needs it, craves it, is screaming for it. Hot lips blaze over his neck, a possessive hand palms at the globe of his ass to spread him open wider, and the slapping sound of Cas’s cock pistoning into him mixes with the low snarls escaping from his alpha.

“Don’t stop,” Dean urges him. “Want your knot, want you to fill me up so fucking bad.”

“Fuck,” Cas curses quietly, his voice gritty with its roughness. “Want to. Dreamed about it, about you, sweet omega, so many times.”

His eyes scrunch up as he feels his second orgasm creeping up on him, Cas’s pounding thrusts forcing his knot deeper and deeper each time. Knowing he’s only seconds away from getting what he wants is causing the most delicious anticipation to run through him, heating up more and more until it feels like his whole body is burning with lava running through his veins. “Cas, please, harder. So close. Knot me, knot me, knot me,” Dean chants.

As Cas gets closer and closer to the edge Dean feels crazy with lust, drunk on the scalding scent of his alpha’s arousal, white-hot heat surging through every inch of him until _finally_ he screams, actually _screams_ when Cas’s knot impales him completely and pops. His vision blurs as he gets fucked, stretched, _owned_ by his alpha’s massive fucking knot. He claws blindly at Cas’s back and bears his neck as the first flood of hot cum inside of him sends him reeling, spiraling head-first so fast into a mind-blowing orgasm he can’t even breathe through it. His ass clamps down on that knot like a vice as he tugs on it and comes again and again, heat flashing through him and his body convulsing with the force of his release.

He hears Cas’s choked-off sound of ecstasy a split second before his mouth is working over his earlier bite mark. His mate’s mouth on his scent gland while they’re knotted draws a breathy gasp from his mouth, the air coming out in stilted, heavy pants that slowly works to clear his brain. It takes more effort than it should, but he lifts his hand to comb through Cas’s hair, eventually forcing his face away from his neck so he can press their lips together firmly, kissing him until he feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle with how sated he is.

But he can’t let the flood of endorphins talk him into sleep now because Cas is still hard and tied to him and that means he’s nowhere close to being done with him. “Roll me over, alpha,” Dean asks him, and Cas groans as he pushes his hands around Dean’s back and they work together until Dean’s straddling him.

“You think you still have it in you, omega?” Cas quips.

“I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” Dean says, smiling wolfishly down at Cas as he begins to rotate his hips. “Six orgasms.”

Castiel’s eyes roll back in his head but he tries to save face by saying, “Like I said before, in your dreams.”

Dean just keeps right on smiling, feeling absolutely invincible. He fucking loves this. He’s loved having Cas hard and locked inside of him ever since he was a horny 17 year old who discovered being knotted to Cas meant he had his very own alpha cock to ride for every ounce of pleasure he could wring out of it, and he’s fucking _thrilled_ to finally get another shot at it after all this time.

He braces himself on Cas’s chest and rolls his hips until the head of Castiel’s cock is pressed snugly to his prostate, and as his jaw drops, he grinds. He grinds down slowly, deep and dirty, dragging that fat knot against his rim as Cas’s cockhead rubs insistently exactly where he wants it. He keeps going, circling his hips and alternating between pushing down and pulling up so his rim stretches deliciously, completely lost in using Cas’s knot to its fullest capability. Just as it’s starting to get almost unbearably good, he clenches his ass cheeks together for his alpha, making Cas groan. “Jesus fucking - _oh shit -”_ Cas curses as Dean milks another load from him.

Dean moans as he feels it spurt hot and wet inside of him, filling him up just like the perfect alpha that he is. He drinks in the sight of Cas’s head thrown back, the tendons in his exposed neck pulled tight and his tender flesh pulsing with the increased beat of his heart, sweat beginning to bead in the shallow pool of his clavicles. He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it sends another jolt of desire through him, driving him to begin to ride his knot in earnest.

“Fuck that’s good,” Dean breathes. “So fucking full. Nothing fills me up like you, alpha.”

Cas’s big hands grasp at Dean’s thighs while Dean continues rocking on top of him in an undulating rhythm. As Cas comes down from his second orgasm, he caresses his thighs lovingly before one hand slides up to grasp Dean’s leaking cock in his hand. Dean falls forwards slightly as Cas drags his thumb under the head, and as his palm comes up to tighten over his cockhead on the upstroke just the way he likes it, he whimpers, and it’s only a pitiful three strokes before Dean is locking up and spilling all over Castiel’s hand.

Cas lifts it to Dean’s mouth and he sucks two of his alpha’s fingers, covered in his own cum, straight into his mouth. He wraps his lips around them, meeting Cas’s searingly intent gaze, and sinks down on them in time with the rise and fall of his hips. He doesn’t have a lot of room to move with the way Cas’s knot is locked so perfectly inside of him, but the half-inch of friction he gets is staggering because of how stuffed full he is. He sucks hard on Castiel’s thick digits, hollowing his cheeks and watching as Cas worries his kiss swollen lower lip between his teeth. Cas growls quietly and forces another finger, still dripping, into his mouth alongside the other two. Dean pulls away to lap at them with his tongue, flattening it between the webs of Castiel’s fingers and dragging it through the middle of a watery streak of cum.

As Cas thrusts up wildly, Dean’s ass tightens on his knot, and he calls out loud enough to drown out most of Castiel’s curse, another orgasm shooting through him like electricity. It fires him up, sends sparks racing along his skin, the clenching of his ass pulling another load from his alpha as Dean’s cock continues to drool string after string of watery cum on Cas’s stomach.

Cas pulls him in by his wrist, swipes his fingers through his new puddle of cum, and feeds it to him one finger at a time. Dean mindlessly cleans up his own mess until Cas crashes their mouths together, forcing his tongue into his mouth where he sucks the taste right off of the tip. “Sweeter than I remember,” Cas comments curiously, licking his lips. “I’ll have to suck you off before I knot you next time,” he promises before he licks right back in and dominates Dean’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

The pointed reminder that his alpha isn’t _too_ alpha to suck his omega cock along with the new angle has his insides burning with pleasure, and he rocks back into his knot frantically, already desperate for his next orgasm. Cas shushes him and brings his hand around to his ass to ease him into a slower rhythm that works for them both, and Dean feels his next orgasm simmering as Cas kisses the breath out of him over and over.

Then they’re not even kissing anymore, just back to staring into each other’s eyes and sharing the stilted breaths between them as the heat mounts, building gradually until it finally comes to a head with a gasp. His release is small and almost clear he’s so empty, but his throbbing ass is still enough to rip another orgasm from Cas, and Dean groans at the filthy sensation when he feels cum starting to leak out from around Cas’s knot, knowing he’s so full of his alpha’s seed that he can’t hold anymore.

“Greedy omega,” Castiel pants, looking every bit like he’s the cat who caught the canary.

“Gotta - make up - for lost time,” Dean smiles, turning his head so Cas can scent him again. He feels Cas huff out a breath of laughter against his skin, pressing a chaste kiss to his scent gland.

Truthfully, his thighs are basically rubber by now, but he knows he’s got one more in him before Cas’s knot goes down. Dean scents Cas next, wanting to drown in the way Cas smells so satisfied and so much like him. If he gets his way, nobody else will ever have the privilege of seeing Cas like this. Hell, if he never smells Cas’s solitary scent again he’ll be every bit as smug as Cas looks right now as long as Cas keeps smelling like him, like he belongs to him the way he should.

“Got one more in you, old man?” Dean teases, breathing hard.

Cas exhales on a tired groan but nods. “Feel free to keep going after you kill me.”

Dean laughs lightly but nuzzles their noses together. “Don’t die, baby, I’m not done with you after this.”

“This knot or this heat?” Cas asks, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Both,” Dean promises. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

“You’re out on your sweet ass as soon as my knot goes down,” Cas says in a teasing tone of voice, but his scent is sending sweet coils of dark chocolate and blueberry into the air and it only increases when Dean laughs breathlessly.

“Love that you didn’t outgrow the way you can’t lie for shit.”

“I love that you didn’t outgrow me,” Castiel answers, and then before Dean can confess how he never stopped loving him for one single second, they’re kissing again. Tenderness clings to every press of their lips and every worshiping touch as they begin to rock together once more. Castiel’s hands roam his body freely, and as Dean straightens up again, Cas brings them both to another orgasm surprisingly fast with only his knot and his clever fingers working over Dean’s sensitive nipples.

“One more,” Dean begs him afterwards.

Cas is gasping for breath when he whines, “Seriously?”

“You barely even had to work for that one,” he reminds him. Cas huffs indignantly and Dean bends to kiss him once more, causing more cum to dribble out of his hole and between his legs - and that’s when an idea strikes him. “Watch your head,” he warns Cas, and then he maneuvers himself until he’s twisted around in reverse cowboy position. “Spread me open, alpha.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat when he feels Cas’s thumbs pry his cheeks apart, and _motherfucker_ the low sound of pleasure from Cas when he gets an eyeful of Dean’s swollen hole stretched around his knot and dripping with slick and Cas’s seed is enough to get him halfway to his next orgasm all on its own.

“Look at you,” Cas says reverently. “So fucking full of my cum you can’t even hold it all inside of you. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen _in my life.”_

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Dean promises, and with that, he starts to move. He’s fucking exhausted, but the renewed burning hot blueberry in his alpha’s scent drives him on, letting him know just how arousing Cas thinks he is. He gives him all of his best stuff, grinding slow and dirty, stretching his back so Cas can watch his muscles, letting his knot tug at his rim so Cas can see the way his hole stretches even further, and then finally bouncing the best he can with the little bit of room he has. Cas is so fucking strong even now that Dean’s so much bigger than he used to be that he can still help him along, lifting his ass up with every bounce so it pulls on his knot.

He can hear Cas’s breathing getting harsher and harsher, the curses that slip out between iterations of Dean’s name, and he feels a deep sense of pride that borders on smug satisfaction when he makes his alpha come for the sixth time. After catching his breath, Cas pushes himself up on his hands and Dean feels his strong chest support him for a second before his mouth finds his scent gland and one hand circles his cock.

“Come for me, Dean,” Cas urges him, working over his length expertly. “Let me feel you one more time.”

Dean’s neck tilts to the side, a flood of pheromones seeping out of him as he thinks about Cas giving him his bite. All he can think about now that he knows he’s almost there is being tied to Cas forever, being _his._ Desperation bursts out of him as he gasps, “Bite me. Mate me. You know how bad I want you to, _please.”_

“After,” Cas promises hoarsely, kissing his scent gland and fisting him faster. “After you’re not in heat, I’ll mate you. I’ll bite you, mark you as mine, never let you get away again.”

“Do it now,” Dean mewls. “Please, Cas.” Dean brings his hand up to the back of Cas’s head and holds him there as he rides his knot. “Please, please, please. Make me yours. I’ll be such a good omega, I swear, I’ll be so good, alpha.”

“You are already perfect, little bean. And _I am_ going to bite you,” Cas repeats. “Later. I promise. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give you anything.”

“I need it,” Dean whines. “Please, Cas, don’t - don’t let me lose you again. Bite me and I’ll be yours.”

He whimpers pitifully when Cas lets go of his cock, but then he feels thick fingers teasing between his cheeks and his head tilts back to fall onto Castiel’s shoulder. His eyes squeeze shut and all it takes to send him hurtling over the edge is for Cas to rub his finger around his over-sensitive rim twice and he’s clamping down on his knot as his orgasm is wrenched out of him with a cry. His sound of pleasure quickly turns into a sob a few seconds later when he realizes Cas still didn’t bite him and he scrambles around so his alpha can cradle him in his arms while he tries not to ruin what just happened between them with his burnt coffee scent.

It’s turning bitter despite the way he’s trying to even it out, but Cas is there, shushing him with kisses to his face and soothing caresses as he lies them both down in his bed. He calms down slowly, hearing Cas murmur over and over that he’s never going to lose him, that Cas is his, his alpha, and he’s not going anywhere.

Cas finally settles him enough to make him drink the rest of the water that’s left from breakfast and once he drains the bottle, he sags into Cas’s arms, still tied to him with Cas’s knot.

“Shit, I’m sorry Cas,” he says quietly once he feels like he’s got himself back under control. He wiggles until he’s the small spoon, smirking a little at the broken sound from Cas when he accidentally tugs on his knot, and relaxes even more once Cas’s arms wrap around him. “I don’t know why I keep losin’ it like that.”

“Never be sorry for wanting me,” Cas replies. “You don’t know how hard it is not to give you everything we both crave when we’re tied together, but I need to be one hundred percent sure this is what you want when no mating instincts are talking. There’s no going back after a mating bite, my omega, and there’s still a lot we have to talk about.”

Anxiety swirls inside of him from that foreboding statement. “But we’re gonna work it out, right? You’re gonna take me back?”

“I would like nothing more,” Cas says, kissing the top of his head. “But you need to rest now. If you wake up and I’m not here it’s because I’m going to fix you something else to eat when my knot goes down, okay, coffee bean?”

Whether Cas knows nothing will calm him down like that ridiculous endearment or it’s just plain luck, that and Castiel’s strong arms are more than enough to coax him back into sleep.

Castiel sleeps longer than he thought he would, especially with the expectation he had of Dean’s heat waking him up with the drive for more. But when he looks over at the clock, it’s past mid-day, and he and Dean are no longer tied together. He’s still curled around Dean with his nose on his favorite spot on his neck, and he spends a few minutes just breathing in their combined scents and marking Dean again and again before he can convince himself to pull away. He’s absolutely covered in a mixture of cum and slick, but it’s not as if it’s the first time, and he’s smiling when he kisses Dean’s temple and whispers that he’ll be right back.

He slips into yet another clean pair of pants, already thinking about starting a load of laundry, but decides against it for now in favor of making Dean something else to eat. If Dean’s going to insist on draining them both with each new knotting (and he knows Dean, so he knows he will) they both need to keep up their strength.

He’s barely made it out of the bedroom when his landline rings. Castiel’s eyes go wide as he races towards it, scooping it off of the cradle so it doesn’t wake Dean, and irritably answering, “Hello?”

“He lives!” Gabriel crows dramatically.

“Was I supposed to have died?”

“Been calling your cell phone since five o’clock last night. I was about to send in the troops before I remembered you’re the only person alive who still has a landline.”

“And it came in handy, didn’t it?” Castiel says smugly, walking over to the fridge.

“Sure saved me a shitload of cash,” Gabriel answers. “You gonna thank me for saving your ass, or what?”

“I would have to know what you’re talking about before I could do that.”

“Are you sure you’re not dead?”

“What are you talking about?” Castiel asks, irritated with how after all this time he still barely understands what Gabriel’s talking about most of the time.

“I sent a plow to do your driveway and your street so you weren’t snowed in, ya no mind. How’d you not notice the plows?”

“I’ve been... tied up all morning,” Castiel says with a hint of a smile on his face. “That reminds me, though, I crashed my car.”

“I told you that car was a hunk of junk!”

“It had very little to do with the car,” Castiel defends. “You know I hate to ask, but would you be able to pull some strings and get me a tow today?”

“Where’s the car?”

Castiel tells him his best guess for where his car is on the highway as he starts to make he and Dean a couple of turkey sandwiches. Gabriel rambles on about all the accidents he heard about on the news and how basically the whole city is shut down today because of the snow fall - almost thirty centimeters all at once combined with what they already had on the ground - until he’s finished making lunch, and then he cuts the conversation short.

“I’ve just finished making some lunch, so I’m going to have to let you go so we can eat.”

“We?” Gabriel asks, causing Castiel to curse his stupidity. “Weren't going to mention that you’re using body heat to keep warm during the storm, Cassie?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Castiel says honestly. “I really do have to go.”

“You know I’ll just keep calling until you tell me who it is.”

“I’ll unplug my phone,” Castiel says, grabbing two more water bottles from the fridge.

“I’m probably due for a visit anyway,” Gabriel says evenly, and because he knows his brother _is_ stubborn enough to actually do it, he groans.

“Fine. It’s Dean.”

There’s an uncharacteristic silence for so long on the other end of the phone that he pulls it away from his ear to look at the screen in order to make sure he didn’t accidentally hang up. No, the timer shows eleven minutes and is still going.

“Gabriel?”

“Christ on a cracker, I’m actually speechless.”

“I’ll be awaiting my award in the mail,” Castiel quips. “Now, if you don’t mind -”

“You remember that he broke your heart, right? Like, ripped it right out of your chest, tore it to shreds, stomped on it, then scraped it off his shoe and never looked back?”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Castiel says tersely.

Gabriel snorts derisively. “Let me guess, abducted by aliens? Amnesia? No wait, sex trafficking, right? He always did have a pretty face.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“It’s supposed to knock some sense into your brain instead of a sweet omega scent into your fucking knot, Castiel.” Gabriel sounds serious, which is odd enough on its own, but it’s hearing him use his full name that actually stops him in his tracks. “He couldn’t have called or written or typed your name into Google to figure out what happened to you?”

“He didn’t have my phone number,” Castiel says, feeling his face flush now that he hears how ridiculous that sounds. "And you know mother kept everything out of the press."

“Oh, well, that explains it all then,” Gabriel says sarcastically.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk it all through yet, but I trust him. He had a good reason for what happened, and even if he didn’t, it was _twelve years_ ago. He could have made a juvenile mistake.”

“I literally can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Gabriel bellows. “Do you need me to remind you of all the fucked up ways Dean Winchester _ruined_ your life? Because I remember _exactly_ what your signature looked like on that -”

The reminder sends ice running through his veins. “It wasn’t his fault,” he interrupts.

“I swear to God, Cassie, if you tell me you bit him...”

“Of course I didn’t bite him, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not that stupid.”

“Thank Mary and Joseph,” Gabriel breathes. “Now, what you need to do is kick that little twink out of your house and tell him to lose your address exactly the same way he did twelve years ago.”

“I’m not kicking him out the house and he’s not a twink anymore,” Castiel tells him. “I need to go, Gabriel. I will take your reminders into consideration. Thank you for helping with my car and the snow removal.”

“Cassie -”

But Castiel has heard more than enough, and he barely grits out a terse, “Goodbye,” before he hangs up the phone.

Without a tray to help him out this time, Castiel struggles to manage two plates and two bottles of water in the same trip, but he manages by sticking the water bottles under his arm and holding them against his body.

He catches the bitter scent of coffee before he walks into the bedroom, and he’s smiling fondly at the idea of Dean being upset of waking up alone even after he told him where he’d be. That changes when he walks through the doorway to see Dean pulling on his jeans from the night before.

“Starting to get cold?” Castiel asks curiously.

“Takin’ off,” Dean says without looking at him.

Castiel grimaces in his confusion. “Taking off? You know I was joking about you having to leave when we were knotted earlier, right?” he says, still joking now.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not that stupid.”

Understanding dawns at once, sinking like a stone in his stomach. “You overhead me on the phone,” he says, placing the water and the plates on the nightstand not already covered with dishes. Dean huffs out an irritated breath as he pulls on his old shirt and looks around until he finds a sock. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You didn’t mean it would be stupid to bite me?”

“I meant it would be stupid to do it when you were in heat and we were both caught up in the moment,” Castiel says calmly.

“Yeah?” Dean asks. He storms over to Castiel with one sock on and bares his neck. “My heat’s done, so go ahead.”

Castiel frowns - nobody’s heat is over in half a day - but then he smells it. Hidden underneath the bitter coffee smell is only the faintest hint of brown sugar, letting him know without question that Dean’s heat has indeed run its course.

“So go on, bite me.”

“Dean,” Castiel says softly, carefully placing his hand on his neck.

Dean flings it off with an aggressive shrug of his shoulder. “Not that stupid, right? I’m good enough to fuck but not good enough to mate.”

“Stop it,” Castiel says firmly. “You know that’s not how I feel about you. That’s not how I’ve ever felt about you and it’s insulting to both of us that you’d believe that for even a moment.”

“What am I supposed to think? You didn’t even want to touch me. I was begging you, fucking crying with how much I needed you and you still wouldn’t touch me! I had to - to present like a good little bitch to even make you want me and even then you wouldn’t bite me.”

“I was trying to -”

“Then I wake up _alone_ and overhear you on the phone talking to god knows who about how _of course_ you didn’t bite the freak infertile omega because, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not that stupid.”

“You are not a freak,” Castiel says fiercely. “I was talking to Gabriel, and the only reason I didn’t touch you the moment I saw you is because I was afraid you would regret it afterwards.”

“Well maybe you’re psychic, ‘cause I sure as fuck regret it now.”

Castiel flinches as the words hit him like a slap to the face. He takes a deep breath and tries to find his voice. “Dean, I’m sorry I hurt you by not giving you the mating bite you wanted, but there are factors at play that you need to understand before you agree to bind yourself to me for life. My reluctance has nothing to do with not wanting you, it’s with wanting to make sure you know what you’re asking for. There are things about me you don’t know.”

“Do you still love me?” Dean asks him, his chin tilted up defiantly, his green eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and fear tinging his scent as if he doesn’t already know. As if Castiel hadn’t told him he would love him forever more times than he can count.

“Always,” Castiel tells him again without hesitation.

“Then bite me. I don’t care about anything else.”

Castiel swallows hard. “That’s not fair. I don’t _want_ to bite you -”

“Believe me, I got it,” Dean says, stalking out of the room.

“You’re being impossible!” Castiel says, hot on his heels as a growl rumbles low in his throat. “I was going to say I don’t want to bite you -”

“I heard you the first time,” Dean cuts him off again, throwing the closet open.

 _“When you’re upset!”_ Castiel bellows. “You deserve better than that. We deserve better than that.”

“Yeah right,” Dean says bitterly, shoving his feet into his boots. “You wouldn’t bite me back then and you’re not gonna do it now.”

“If I bit you when you were 17 there’s a good chance we both would have died when we were separated!”

“Like I didn’t anyway?” Dean challenges, shoving his arms through the holes in his jacket.

“Oh _you_ died, did you?” Castiel asks him sarcastically. “My life was ruined forever when you left, Dean!”

“Yeah,” Dean snorts derisively. “I feel real sorry for you in your big ass mansion on the lake, living the exact life you always wanted.”

“The life I always wanted was _with you.”_ Castiel feels fury so cold he wouldn’t be surprised if he froze from the inside out. “You have _no idea_ what I’ve been through, _no idea_ about my life, because you just up and _left it_ without a word!”

“Good thing, too, because apparently all that talk about wanting to mate me was just bullshit anyway. I was just an omega hole for you to fuck, right?”

Castiel’s voice is hard as ice when he replies, “You are _not_ your father, Dean, don’t put his words in your mouth. Not about us. I _loved_ you.” His own words and the honesty behind them softens his disposition, melting away some of his anger.

He watches in confusion when Dean’s expression turns from rage to heartbreak and then eerily completely devoid of emotion. He takes a step closer to Dean, wanting to fix this before it gets completely out of hand, but Dean shakes his head and steps back.

“Don’t.” Dean’s voice is hoarse, a raw whisper, and now fear overpowers absolutely everything else, rooting Castiel to the spot as the putrid scent of burning coffee absolutely pours from him.

“Stay,” he implores Dean, his voice trembling. “Don’t leave like this.” But Dean’s shaking his head and his hand is on the doorknob. “Don’t leave me again, Dean, please. I’m begging you.”

For a split second Dean’s shoulders, rigid with anger, slump. Castiel takes in a single breath of relief before Dean says, “I can’t do this.”

All of the protests, the pleading, and the anger gets caught in his throat as he watches his worst nightmare play out all over again in real time when Dean opens the door and walks out of his life without another word the exact same way he did twelve years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like you should know the first time I wrote this ending scene, they talked it out. It was my betas (Eliza and Brianna) who convinced me to amp up the drama. So if you’re yelling at your phone/computer right now, please direct your rage to them 😄


	9. Chapter 9

_**2007** _

It’s the middle of April when Dean goes into heat for the first time since he met Cas. Even though he can’t tear Cas away from him for about a week leading up to it, they don’t figure it out in time. Dean’s too happy basking in all of the orgasms and how Cas breaks his own rule by sleeping over a few times that week on school nights because he can’t stand to leave him. Sleeping in his alpha’s arms is the best thing in the entire world (even better than all of the orgasms) and he’s so drunk on being in love that nothing else even registers.

It all comes to a head on a Friday morning. Cas stayed over the night before, and he wakes up with him pinning him face down on the bed, Cas's cock sliding along his ass crack over top of his pajama bottoms, and his mouth latched onto Dean’s neck, sucking hard enough that it legitimately hurts.

“You go vampire on me overnight there, Cas?” Dean says.

“Mmmm,” Cas says, still applying suction to his skin.

“Can you ease up there a little? It’s starting to hurt a little,” Dean confesses.

Cas wrenches his mouth away but a growl vibrates through his chest, which for some reason, causes his ass to practically _gush_ slick.

“Oh god,” Cas chokes out. “You smell so good, Dean. So unbelievably good. I want to - I want to -” But Cas’s words cut off as he works on tugging Dean’s pants down. Then he’s manhandling him up onto his knees and pulling his asscheeks apart and Dean barely has a second to prepare before he feels the first broad stripe of Cas’s tongue along his hole.

“Jesus christ,” Dean gasps, and then he can’t get out another identifiable word because Cas is eating him out like he’s fucking starving for it, his facial hair scraping against his skin and his tongue alternating between swirling around his rim and spearing into his hole. He always loses it when Cas does this for him - so far, absolutely nothing feels better than this - but now, Cas is going at it so intensely he’s making wet slurping sounds, sending vibrations along his flesh when he moans with every swipe of his hot tongue. The pressure building in his stomach is already coiling impossibly tight, and when three wide fingers sink into him without resistance and Cas finds his prostate immediately, Dean comes like a geyser.

He screams with the force of his pleasure, feeling slick sliding down the backs of his legs as he spills all over the bed, and he damn near chokes on his tongue when he feels Cas’s boxer-clad cock prodding at his hole and his mouth return to his neck.

“Alpha, please,” Dean whines. “Want - I want you. I want you so bad. Please - I wanna - I want you inside of me.” More soaked sounds of wet fabric fill his ears as the head of Castiel’s cock presses snugly against him and he’s never wanted anything as bad as he wants Cas to fill him up. He blurts, “Knot me, alpha. Knot me, knot me, knot me.” As soon as he says it, he _needs_ it. He notices he’s still rock hard but he can’t think of anything else except for how empty he is and how badly he needs his alpha to fuck him senseless. Cas snarls, his teeth scraping at his scent gland and _holy fuck,_ his alpha’s going to claim him.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes,” Dean begs him. “Bite me, knot me, _mate me,_ alpha.”

He actually whines when Cas pulls away, and when he rolls over to see what the fuck he’s doing, he sees Cas standing by the door with his back pressed to the wall and his cock tenting his boxers, a huge wet spot darkening the grey material he wants to fall to his knees in front of to lap up. “You - you’re in heat,” Cas gasps.

As soon as Cas says it he knows it’s true, hell, he should’ve known days ago now that he thinks about it. But it doesn’t change anything.

“Yeah,” he confirms, nodding as he takes his leaking cock into his hand.

 _“Fuck._ Fuck, fuck, fuck you smell _so good_ I can’t even think about anything else but fucking you into next week.”

Cas _never_ talks like that and it’s more than enough for him to increase the pace of his hand flying over his dick. “Still want your knot, alpha, come on,” Dean tries.

“No.” Cas is shaking his head rapidly back and forth but Dean notices he’s watching hungrily as he strokes himself. “No. I’m not - we’re not - for the first time when you’re in heat.”

“I’ve wanted it for four fucking months!” Dean reminds him, probably not as nicely as he should.

“No,” Cas says again, and Dean makes a sound of frustration low in his throat as Cas finds and pulls on his pants.

“Cas, come on. You’re my alpha,” he reminds him. “I’m in heat and I need you. Your omega needs you.”

“You are my omega and I love you, Dean. Which is why I’m not going to take you for the first time when neither of us are even thinking straight.”

“All I’m thinking about is how good your fat cock’s gonna feel stretching me open,” Dean agrees. “You gonna tell me you don’t want it? You don’t wanna feel how tight my virgin ass is for you? Jesus, I’m so fucking slick, Cas. And you’re so hard, I can see how hard you are from over here, and I’m so ready for your knot, alpha.” As an idea comes to him, he lets go of his cock to turn over so he can get up onto all fours. He’s on his knees when he hears the door slam behind him and he looks over his shoulder to see that Cas has left the room entirely before he can present properly for the first time in his life. “What the fuck?” No response. “Cas, come on! Come back!”

He stays in position, presenting for his alpha in case he comes back, listening closely to the sound of muffled voices for a few minutes before Cas is clearly back and right behind the door since his voice is coming through it easily enough.

“I love you, omega. I need you to understand that I’m not leaving you, I’m not breaking up with you, and I’m not rejecting you.”

“Why the fuck aren’t you in here then?” Dean grits out, getting onto the floor to look for his box of heat toys. If Cas isn’t coming back in, and he’s an alarming mix of pissed and devastated that it sounds like he’s not going to, he needs to find a fake knot before he fucking dies.

“You know why, and when you’re not in heat anymore you’ll understand.”

“Cas, please. Please don’t go,” Dean begs, and it’s then that the first cramp hits him. “Oh god. I need you. I need my alpha. It hurts. It _hurts,_  Cas. _Please."_

Dean looks up in excitement when he hears the doorknob rattle, but then he just barely hears Sam say, “Cas, you said -”

Cas’s voice is muted when he responds, “You’re right. Thank you. Sorry, he’s in pain and I just -” Then silence, and louder now, he hears, “I love you, coffee bean,” Cas says quietly. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. I love you so much.”

“Cas!” Dean calls out, tears flooding his vision as he realizes Sam isn’t going to let Cas back in. “Cas, please. Please don’t go!” Desperate now, he leaves the box of toys on the floor and stumbles to his door, completely uncaring of the fact that he’s naked, hard, and dripping slick. He reaches for the door handle but that’s when Sam speaks again.

“Dean? He’s gone, man.”

“No,” Dean gasps, falling right back down onto the floor as both physical and emotional pain rips through him. “No, I need him, Sammy. He’s my alpha.”

“And he’s proving what a good one he is by not taking advantage of you when you’re in heat. You should be proud of him.”

Somewhere deep down he knows Sam is right, but that doesn’t stop him from biting out, “Fuck you, Sam.”

Sam laughs humorlessly from behind the door. “You’re welcome, jerk. Water bottles, towels, and food are right outside your door.”

“Need Cas,” Dean says petulantly.

“I’m going to class. Text me if you need anything.”

“Cas,” Dean repeats, more like a whine this time.

But as another bout of cramps hits him, he scoops up his box of heat toys and collapses onto his bed, fumbling in the box with his legs already spread and his hole desperate to be filled. His fingers close around one of his fake knots, not the biggest he has but a good one to start with, but the moment he presses it to his hole he feels an all-encompassing sense of _wrong_ shoot through him.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want a fake knot, he wants the real deal. He wants Cas. He wants his alpha’s mouth hot and wet on his scent gland and Cas’s significant weight curled over his back. He wants the burning hot scent of blueberry so heavy in the room he feels like he’s drowning in it, and he doesn’t want this stupid fucking fake knot.

His bodily instincts don’t care what his omega wants though, and so even though he sobs with how wrong it feels, it still sends a bolt of desire straight down his spine as he works the knot inside for the first time. He fucks himself with it until he comes with his face buried in the pillow Cas slept on last night, tears rolling down his face, and Cas’s name on his lips.

He doesn’t feel a single ounce of relief.

The day drags. Heats are never enjoyable (or at least not in his experience) but this is something else entirely. This is not only physically draining, but emotionally exhausting, too. When he can think in between orgasms and the cramps wracking him, he gets why Cas chose to stay away and why he isn’t here to help him. But when he’s deep in the throes of heat and every raw inch of him is calling out for his alpha, it hurts in more ways than one, and he goes back and forth between crying for Cas and cursing his stubborn ass, all while his nose is constantly seeking out the places on his bed that smell the most like him.

By the time Sam comes home from school, Dean is sore and achy in places he didn’t even know could ache, his tongue is coated in a thick layer of his own tacky spit, and his body is drenched in sweat and bodily fluids. His stomach is cramping almost non-stop and he feels weak enough that he thinks he might actually pass out, which would honestly be a welcome relief from all of the pain at this point.

“Cover up, I’m coming in,” he hears through the door. He groans while he reaches for a sheet that he flung onto the floor at some point, and grits his teeth as the scratchy material rubs against his naked, over-sensitive skin in the wrong way. “All clear?” Sam asks.

“Whatever.”

Sam walks in with an expression full of worry. “You didn’t eat or drink anything all day.”

“Can’t. Fucking hurts.”

“I get that, but with... all the bodily fluids... you’re losing you’re going to get dehydrated if you don’t drink something.” Sam holds out a water bottle and pins him with sad, worried-looking eyes, and Dean grunts as he reaches for it and struggles to crack the seal on the lid. He tries twice before he heaves the bottle against the wall in a fit of anger and falls back onto his bed, already covered in a new sheen of sweat.

“Sure, Dean, let me open that for you,” Sam says sarcastically, hunting down the bottle and doing just that. He shoves it back into his hand and says, “Drink it.”

“Don’t want it,” Dean refuses, looking away and gritting his teeth as he tries desperately not to think about how badly he needs something inside of him again.

“I’m not leaving ‘till you drink it, so unless you want me to see things nobody should ever, _ever_ see their big brother do...”

“Fucking fine,” Dean shouts, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a belligerent swig. As soon as the cool liquid passes his lips he realizes just how thirsty he is, and then he’s guzzling the entire bottle down between huge, gasping breaths. He doesn’t have to look at his little brother to know he likely has a smug smile on his face, so he chucks the empty bottle in his direction and laughs for the first time all day when he hears it connect with some part of his body.

“You’re such a jerk,” Sam complains.

“Not even sorry,” Dean answers.

“Now what do I have to do to get you to eat a power bar?” Sam asks.

It’s not even his heat talking when he says, “Rather starve.”

Sam tries for another ten minutes, but Dean continues to refuse, and when it becomes obvious to them both that Dean really is about to use a fake knot in front of his brother because he literally can’t hold back anymore, Sam walks out of the room with an annoyed huff and Dean’s stuffing himself full before the door’s even clicked closed.

Castiel can’t stop pacing. He can’t concentrate, he can’t unball his fingers from where they’re curled into tight fists at his side, and he can’t stop thinking about Dean. Worrying about Dean. Wondering how he’s doing. Remembering the most tantalizing scent he’s ever encountered and the sweet taste of his omega’s slick on his tongue.

Fuck.

He shakes the thought out of his head for what has to be the five hundredth time since this morning, and all but leaps for his phone when it goes off with a text message.

_Dean!_

Why didn’t he think to message Dean earlier to check on him? He’s so stupid! He flips his phone open and glances down in surprise when he sees the message he has is from Sam.

 **SAM:** Hey Cas, sorry to bother you, but I don’t really know who else to go to for help and I’m worried about Dean.  
**CASTIEL:** What’s wrong? Is he okay?  
**SAM:** I think so. Thing is, I left food and water outside his bedroom before I left for school but when I came back I noticed he didn’t touch any of it. I got him to drink a bottle of water but he refuses to eat anything.  
**CASTIEL:** He hasn’t eaten anything all day?

Dean is already too thin, though Castiel has managed to get a little bit of weight on him over the last few months. But he absolutely cannot go through a day without eating anything at all.

 **SAM:** No, and I learned in health class that if omegas are in heat and don’t eat or drink enough they could get dehydrated and need to be hospitalized, right? Any ideas how we can get him to eat?  
**CASTIEL:** What have you offered him?  
**SAM:** I went with a power bar, thinking it would be easiest for him to get down.  
**CASTIEL:** I’m going to run out and pick up some food. I’ll text you when I’m in the parking lot so I don’t get too close to him.  
**SAM:** You know how Dean is. I don’t know how he’s going to feel about you spending money on him.  
**CASTIEL:** We’ll just have to remind him that if I’m his alpha, it’s my job to take care of him.  
**SAM:** ...that might work. Thanks, Cas. And hurry if you can.

Castiel doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs his keys and all but flies to the car. His first stop is McDonalds, where he picks up a dozen mini pies and the biggest fountain Coke he can get. It’s not as good for Dean as water would be, but he loves his fountain pop and drinking that is better than nothing. Then, prompted by the sight of the burgers, he heads to Burger World where he orders a poutine and bacon cheeseburger to go, then doubles that order a minute later when he thinks of Sam not having anybody to make him dinner.

So less than a half hour after he left his house, he’s texting Sam from the parking lot, feeling itchy all over at the thought of Dean only a few walls away smelling so much like cinnamon, leaking and aching for him.

Sam comes out almost immediately, his lips turned down into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks before Sam can say anything.

Sam sighs through his nose and says, “Nobody wants to hear their brother making the kinds of noises Dean’s been making almost non-stop.”

Castiel nods his understanding, trying not to let his thoughts linger on how he knows first-hand just how arousing Dean can sound when he’s being pleasured.

“Hopefully this will quiet him down for a little while,” he offers with a small smile, handing Sam the plastic bag from McDonald’s and the paper one from Burger World. “There’s a burger and poutine in there for you too so you have something to eat for dinner.”

“That’s awesome, thanks!” Sam exclaims, and just seeing his face light up with excitement makes him smile in return. He really cares for Sam, almost like another little brother, and his inner alpha is quite pleased about being able to provide for his intended mate’s family.

He hands Sam the giant Coke, which gets an amused laugh, and Cas tells him, “There’s plenty of pie, too, but there’s a good chance Dean will still fight you for it, heat or not.”

Sam snorts out another laugh. “You’re probably right. Thanks a lot, Cas. I hope this works.”

“Please let me know if it doesn’t. I don’t know what else I can do, but I can try something.”

“I will.” He nods and takes a few steps away as if he’s going to leave, then turns back and says, “He keeps asking for you still.” Castiel’s breath gets caught in his lungs. “I can hear him, you know, when he’s... doing what he does in there,” he says with a grimace. “And he keeps saying your name over and over, sounds like he’s almost begging for you. He’s, uh, never done that in heat before.”

Castiel’s heart is pounding and his voice is hoarse when he asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I saw how hard it was for you to leave. How your eyes were turning red and you looked wound way too tight and how much it killed you to know he was hurting. I just - I dunno - think you’re a good guy and wanted you to know that Dean wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him. And I, uh, I really respect that you’re staying away even though your instincts have to be telling you to rip me to pieces to get to him.”

Castiel huffs out a small laugh at the accuracy there. “Thanks, Sam. Please let me know if either of you need anything else. I’m just a text message away.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again. I’ll see you later.” Then, with a friendly smile, Sam walks away until he disappears into the apartment building.

Castiel stays exactly where he is with his phone in his hand, waiting anxiously to find out if Dean’s eating anything he brought. The minutes feel like hours and he’s drowning himself in his own anxious scent as it just grows thicker and thicker in the car.

Finally, his screen lights up with a message from Dean.

 **DEAN:** the best alpha ilove u som uch

Dean is quite obviously still in the throes of heat or attempting to type with one hand as he eats, and he sincerely hopes it’s the latter.

 **CASTIEL:** Please eat your dinner, coffee bean. It would make me so happy if you ate the burger I got for you.  
**DEAN:** hurts  
**CASTIEL:** I know, sweetheart. I know. It will hurt less if you’ve eaten, though. You’ll have more strength and more energy for when you need it. Please be a good omega for me and eat your dinner.

He doesn’t get a response right away, and instead, the next time his phone goes off it’s with a message from Sam.

 **SAM:** Whatever you’re saying is working. He’s eating his burger and mumbling about being a good omega with his mouth full as usual.

Castiel has never used the possibility of Dean’s inner omega being so eager to please him before - and he never would for anything but his own good, but this qualifies - so he pours it on a little thicker for his next message.

 **CASTIEL:** Such a good omega for me, Dean. I’m so pleased with you. Thank you for taking care of my boyfriend. I love you so much.

Now knowing that Dean is doing better, Castiel puts his car into drive and returns home. He gets sporadic messages from Dean all throughout the evening, varying from sappy messages telling him how much he loves him to messages that rip his heart out when Dean tells him how much pain he’s in.

He barely sleeps at all that night. He turns up the volume on his phone as loud as it goes to make sure he doesn’t miss any messages from Dean, so he’s woken up several times before he drags himself out of bed at 8AM on Saturday. Doing the only thing he knows he can do to help Dean, he makes a stack of blueberry pancakes the way Dean showed him and delivers them for breakfast. Sam meets him at the car again and he gets a message from him soon after confirming that Dean ate them.

For the first time in his life, he hates that he doesn’t know how to cook. He knows he could have the housekeeper cook something for Dean, but it isn’t the same as actually providing it to him himself. He doesn’t know why picking him up something to eat feels better than asking his housekeeper to make it, but following his instincts means he finds himself at Subway that afternoon getting Dean and Sam subs for lunch anyway.

He cancels his tutoring sessions that day, calling in sick for the first time in his life so that he can be available to Dean at every moment. The afternoon feels like years, and it’s a few hours after Castiel has dropped off a rotisserie chicken and potato wedges for dinner that his heart sinks like a stone when he gets a phone call from Sam.

“Sam, is everything okay?”

“I don’t really know,” Sam says uncertainly. “He keeps eating what you’re bringing him and he said the urge to use his toys is slowing down, but it still seems like he’s in a lot more pain than he has been before.”

“What do you mean? How do you know?”

“Well, he’s crying and kinda screaming more than usual.”

“He’s _screaming?”_ Castiel asks, his heart in his throat.

“Yeah, and not the good kind of screaming.” Then he sighs. “God, I hate that I know that.”

“I’m going to hang up and text him, see if he’ll tell me what’s wrong. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Thanks, Cas. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he says quietly.

“You’ll never have to find out,” Castiel promises before ending the call.

 **CASTIEL:** What’s wrong, my love? **  
DEAN:** hurts  
**CASTIEL:** More than other heats?  
**DEAN:** ya  
**CASTIEL:** What can I do?  
**DEAN:** I need u here  
**CASTIEL:** I know, sweetheart, but I can’t be there right now. Does your bed still smell like me?  
**DEAN:** slick and sex  
**CASTIEL:** Should I bring you the shirt I’m wearing? I know the hat you left me when I was in my rut was extremely helpful.  
**DEAN:** pls  
**CASTIEL:** I’ll be right there. Hang on, okay?

He grabs the biggest Ziploc bag he can find on his way back out the door, and ten minutes later he’s stripping his shirt right off of his body in front of a bemused Sam to stuff into the Ziploc bag, and hands over that along with his pillow, thinking nothing he has will be more saturated in his scent than that.

Back at home, his phone goes off with another text.

 **DEAN:** so good alpha fuck me  
**CASTIEL:** Does it help?  
**DEAN:** want u  
**DEAN:** want ur knot  
**CASTIEL:** I know, baby. I wish I could help you. I’m so sorry.  
**DEAN:** this helps thanx

He knows his scent won’t have alleviated all of Dean’s pain, discomfort, or exhaustion from his heat, but he also knows it is possible that it really did help at least a little bit. Considering that’s all he can do without running the risk of taking advantage of Dean when he’s in no state to consent to do what they both know he _really_ needs, it has to be enough.

It’s another long night for them both, and though he’s bone tired himself, he still sleeps with his phone on as loud as it will go for a second night and he makes sure to answer Dean each and every time he texts him, knowing he needs to suck it up and help however he can since he isn’t going through even a tenth of what Dean is. He’s never thought it was fair that omegas heats can run anywhere from one day to a week when alphas almost always get it out of their systems in less than 24 hours, and that was before he saw how hard it is on the man he loves. His last rut had been a day and a half and it was the worst of his life, he can’t imagine still feeling the non-stop urge the way Dean is.

He manages to get a couple of hours of sleep around four in the morning, but he’s startled awake the next morning when his phone starts ringing in his hand. Blinking blearily, he sees that it’s Dean, so he hits the answer button and hears Dean breathing heavily.

“Cas?” he asks.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks immediately.

“It - it hurts. Fuck, I’m so tired,” Dean says, his voice cracking with his exhaustion. “Please, Cas. I need you.”

He closes his eyes as pain shoots straight through his chest. “I’m sorry, Dean. It hurts me to be away from you, to know you’re in pain and there’s nothing I can do to help. I wish I was with you. I wish I could be there to feed you and hold you and give you everything you need.”

“Holy fuck,” Dean gasps, and Castiel can hear how his breathing is getting heavier now. “Keep talking, alpha. Your voice with your pillow - _god.”_

Castiel’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does hearing my voice help?”

“Fuck yes.”

Giving into the curiosity he’s currently feeling, he asks, “Dean, are you using a fake knot right now?”

“Yes,” Dean groans. “I’m sorry - I can’t - I can’t help it. It’s so good when you talk to me. Fuck, your voice is made for sex, you know that? Keep talking, alpha.”

Castiel licks his lips nervously. He’s never done anything like this before, but his omega needs him. He swallows hard and asks, “Are you thinking about me while you use your knot?”

“Every time. Every time I put this stupid fucking knot in me I’m thinking about you, your dick, how big I know your knot is. Ugghh, fuck, I’m so slick now.”

Hearing Dean talk like this is rapidly turning Castiel’s morning erection into a throbbing, aching mess. He’s been trying not to think about how amazing the heavier scent of cinnamon mixed in with Dean’s usual coffee scent had smelled since he came home Friday, but god, just the memory of it now has his cock leaking against his thigh.

“I bet you look beautiful,” Castiel tells him, able to close his eyes and picture it vividly thanks to how well he knows Dean’s body at this point. “I bet you look just as stunning with a fake knot inside of you as you do when you’re riding my fingers.”

Dean’s voice breaks on, “Oh sh-hit.”

“You know how much I like to watch you,” Castiel reminds him. “How much I like watching how your hole stretches around my fingers.” Dean makes an encouraging little sound, so Cas keeps talking. “It’s so hot when you’re a needy, bossy little thing and I get to see when your puffy pink rim clamps down around my fingers.”

“Alpha, please,” Dean says, begging exactly the way he’s heard him beg so many times in the past. Memories of Dean, flushed and smelling so, so sweet swamp him one after another.

“You’re such a good omega for me, aren’t you Dean?” Dean makes an affirmative sound that turns into a moan, reminding him why they’re doing this in the first place. “Does it hurt right now?”

“No,” Dean answers breathlessly. “Not as much. I just - I just need -”

“You need to come, right?” Dean moans his answer once again and Castiel goes out on a limb and asks, “You need to come on my knot?”

“Fuck, _please,”_ Dean breathes. “Please, Cas. I need you, alpha. Need your knot.”

“I wish I was giving it to you, my love,” Castiel admits breathlessly. “I wish I was inside of you for the first time right now.”

“Cas.”

“I’d open you up so good first,” Castiel says quietly, listening for the hitch of Dean’s breath and the wet sound of his knot fucking in and out of him. “I’d eat you out until you come on my tongue just like you did on Friday. I know how much you love that, and -” Castiel gives into the urge to rub himself over his boxers as he remembers. “- _god,_ Dean, you tasted even better than usual, do you know that? I could have eaten you out for hours, days, and I’d never get enough of how good you taste on my tongue.”

“Want it, want you, want you so bad,” Dean pants.

Castiel aches to take himself in hand, and though his face is as red as it’s ever been, he asks, “Is it okay if I touch myself while I’m talking to you?”

“Ohmyfuckinggodyes,” Dean says all in one breath.

“I’m so hard,” Castiel admits quietly, slipping his hand beneath the elastic band and wrapping his fingers around himself. “Thinking about you. How much I want to be with you. I’ve been trying not to think about it since Friday.”

“After - after your mouth, Cas, what would - what would you do to me?”

“Oh, my sweet omega,” Castiel says quietly. If this is what Dean wants to hear, he can tell him every fantasy he’s ever had. “After I make you come using just my mouth, I’d open you up with my fingers, one at a time, stretching you out so good to make sure you can take me without any pain.” He remembers exactly what it feels like to have his fingers deep inside of Dean’s hot, wet hole, to feel it stretching around him as he plunges inside of him again and again, and he squeezes his cock firmly, dragging his hand up to his cockhead to collect his beading precum and spread it back down his length as he thinks about it. “I know how you’d be dying to come again after you have my three fingers inside of you, and you sound so pretty when you beg for me, don’t you my omega?”

“Oh fuck. Please, Cas. Please, alpha. I want you so bad.”

Castiel groans happily as he circles his cockhead in his palm, the sound of his omega desperate for his knot sets fire to an instinct he often tries to ignore. “I’d - I’d try to drag it out because I want to be really, really sure you can take me without it hurting you. Because I love you so much I don’t want you to hurt at all. Isn’t that right, coffee bean?” he checks, wanting to make sure Dean knows he loves him even during phone sex.

“Always,” Dean answers him, and his eyes slip closed as love rushes through him, only adding to his intense desire.

“Always, Dean, always always,” Castiel confirms, still working his hand up and down his length, twisting on the upstroke and stuttering through his words.

“Because - because I know how you get when my hands are on you, and once you think you’re stretched enough, you’d be begging, desperate for me to keep going.”

“Yes,” Dean agrees. “Please, keep going.”

“What would you do to to make me keep going, sweetheart?”

“Present,” Dean says instantly. “Hands and knees, legs spread, showin’ you how my hole is - is leaking and gaping and ready for you - ready for my alpha.”

“Fuck,” Castiel curses, his cock jerking in his hand at the very thought of Dean’s bow legs spread for him, his slim hips framing his curvaceous little ass. “I’d never be able to resist you. I’d be on top of you and then - then sinking inside that sweet little hole of yours between one breath and the next, omega,” Castiel says roughly. “My knot - my knot would be swollen, Dean, just begging me to push it into you.”

“Oh god. Fuck, god, I want it, Cas. Wanna feel you fill me so fucking full.”

He can barely even speak through how aroused he is. The thought of being the first person inside of Dean, of owning him in a way nobody else ever can has desire racing through his veins and shooting to his cock. “It would kill me, Dean, absolutely kill me, but I would be so gentle. I’d fill you up exactly the way you need, but I’d go so slow so you could feel every inch of me, so you could feel how unbelievably hard I’d be for you, sweetheart.”

“Cas, please, I’m so close,” Dean whines.

He bites down on his bottom lip when he remembers how good it feels to have Dean tightening around his fingers, the way he bares his neck when he’s close so Castiel can mark him as he comes. “Think about my mouth on your neck, Dean. My mouth marking your scent gland, your mating gland, showing everybody that you’re mine, my omega -” His hand flies on his dick as he hears Dean’s breathless, murmured agreements. “- as I thrust into you nice and slow, so deep until you’re taking all of me. You’d take all of me because you’re my perfect omega, and you’d be shaking with pleasure, stuffed so full you’d feel like you were going to burst.”

“Yes, yes, _please,_ ” Dean whines. “Yours, make me yours, Cas.”

He’s so close to the edge, picturing Dean’s back bowed and the bruise he sucked on Dean’s neck, listening to the slick slap of skin on skin, sounding just like what he imagines Dean’s fake knot fucking him would sound right now. “And when you think I’m giving you everything I have, I’d thrust hard one time -”

“YES,” Dean shouts.

“Just enough to push my knot past your rim-”

“Cas, Cas, Cas,” Dean pants.

“Fuck, you’d be so tight, so incredibly tight giving yourself to me for the first time.”

“Yours, Cas. Yours,” Dean answers.

“And you’d squeeze my knot _perfectly_ because you’re made for me, my omega. You’d pop my knot and I’d come so hard...” He grits his teeth, trying to fight the urge to stimulate his knot, knowing he needs to make his omega come first. “I’d come so hard, so deep inside of you, you’d feel it so hot and thick. Marking you inside and out, filling you up, making you my one and only omega. All mine. Mine, mine, _mine.”_

“Cas, Cas, fuck, I’m - I’m c-coming.”

All it takes for Cas to follow him over the edge is forcing his phone between his shoulder and ear and using his newly free hand to wrap it around his knot, and just like that, heat engulfs him and his cock is jerking in his hand as he listens to Dean moan and gasp through the phone. He pictures Dean’s ass clenching around a fake knot, painting his freckled skin with his release and he chokes out a stuttered sound of pleasure garbled with Dean’s name as he spills a truly spectacular load of thick cum all over his stomach and chest, a few wayward drops spitting out powerfully enough to land on his fucking neck.

“Shit, oh _shit,”_ Castiel gasps, trying to catch his breath. “Dean,” he whines. “Dean, I love you.”

“Holy shit,” Dean exclaims, also breathing hard. “I love you too. Fuck, I feel - I feel almost normal for the first time in three days.”

“You do?” Castiel asks, surprised.

“Tired and sore, but, yeah. I feel, like, actually satisfied or something.”

Castiel hums happily, still squeezing his knot periodically, proud that he could satisfy his omega even if they’re not together. “I’m glad.”

“Wish you were here,” Dean says quietly, and Castiel’s heart swells when he thinks about how adorable Dean always is when he says things like this. He knows how hard it is for Dean to admit to it, and every time he does it anyway makes Castiel fall in love with him a little bit more. “Not even for sex this time. Just so you could, you know.”

“Hold you,” Castiel finishes for him, smiling wide. “I wish I was holding you right now, too. I wish you were in my arms so I could kiss the top of your head and tell you how much I love you.”

“Could still tell me,” Dean prompts in a whisper.

Castiel laughs lightly. “I love you, my omega. I will always love you.”

“Love you,” Dean says back, and Castiel wishes more than anything he could smell how happy Dean is right now. “Hey Cas?’

“Yes, coffee bean?” Castiel teases.

There’s a short huff, but then Dean says, “When my ass doesn’t feel like it’s on fire, can we do what we were talking about for real? Can we, you know, have sex?”

“No,” Castiel says, smiling. “But if you want, I can make love to you.”

“Oh my god,” Dean complains, and Castiel can hear the eye roll that goes along with it.

“That’s my final offer,” Castiel says, knowing how much Dean not-so-secretly enjoys his sappyness.

“You’re gonna light candles and put rose petals on the bed and everything, aren’t you?”

“Give you everything that you deserve, yes.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says, biting back a yawn. “I’ll put up with the sappy shit to finally get fucked.”

Castiel laughs again, aching with how badly he wants to have Dean in his arms. “If you feel okay, you should get some sleep while you can. I know how much you were up last night.”

“Only if you sleep, too,” Dean says, sounding like he’s seconds away from slipping into sleep. “You stayed up with me.”

There is nothing Castiel wouldn’t do to help Dean take care of himself, and that includes going back to sleep. “Alright.”

“Still wish you were here,” Dean admits.

“I still do, too. I can’t wait to have you in my arms again.”

“Love you, alpha. Thanks for helping me through my heat.”

Castiel is smiling softly when he says, “Always.”

After a promise from Dean to text him when he wakes up, Castiel uses his discarded boxers to wipe himself up and then rolls over and falls back asleep with thoughts of his omega feeling satisfied for the first time in days helping him drift off to sleep.

That’s Dean’s last day of heat. Cas talks him off once more when it gets really bad, but he can handle the rest on his own. By Sunday night he’s well enough to get up to throw his sheets in the laundry and shower off days worth of slick, cum, and sweat. He takes the day off from school on Monday to get through the final dregs, and the best part is that he convinces Cas to come over to spend the day with him by promising he won’t present or ask for his knot.

They’re totally lazy, only getting out of bed and each other’s arms for food or to use the bathroom. Cas says he still smells more cinammony than usual, and though Dean’s body is wrung out and his ass is tender, they spend hours making out and end up getting each other off three different times because they can’t keep their hands to themselves. Dean can’t help but wonder how much better his heat would have been if Cas had been there the whole time, but it’s hard to care too much when he’s this relaxed and feeling like he’s wrapped in a bubble of love, blueberry, and his alpha’s arms.

“May I ask you something personal about your body?” Castiel asks him late Monday afternoon. “And please don’t feel like you have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable at all.”

Dean exhales loudly from where he’s currently lying between Castiel’s legs, on his back with his head resting on Castiel’s shoulder. “This sounds promising.”

“Stop that,” Cas says, chastising him lightly with a gentle squeeze to his naked hip. “I was wondering if you’re currently on any kind of birth control?”

Dean feels his face flush, but if they’re gonna have sex someday soon like he’s hoping, he gets why this is a conversation they need to have. “No. Never really had a reason to be before and my dad doesn’t have any coverage for prescriptions so I dunno what it would cost.”

“The school nurse will give you birth control pills for free if you want them, but I would be more than willing to cover the cost of another method of birth control if you’d prefer that,” Cas offers.

“Like the shot or an IUD or something?”

“Whatever you want,” Cas says, kissing him on the temple.

“I dunno. Can’t we just use condoms?”

“I will be using a condom, yes, but you’re so young, Dean, we can’t afford to risk your entire future on a single piece of latex,” Cas tells him. Dean squirms, uncomfortable with the conversation and unsure what he wants to do. Cas nudges his head to the side and starts a trail of soft kisses along his neck. “A perk,” Cas says seductively, swirling his tongue around his scent gland, “is that if you’re on a form of birth control your heats will become more scheduled, which means there’s a better chance I can make sure to be here to help you through them...” Cas sucks gently on his sensitive skin and causes a shiver to wrack through him. “Every time.”

Dean rolls his eyes and pushes his face away from his neck, earning himself a laugh from Cas. “You know your audience too well.”

“Seriously, Dean. I don’t want to tell you what to do with your body, and I don’t want this to come across as an ultimatum, but you need to understand I’m not comfortable knotting you unless you’re using another method of birth control.”

“Wait, so no sex if I don’t? How is that not an ultimatum?” Dean asks, starting to feel pushed into a corner.

“Please listen,” Cas says gently, soothing him with his tone of voice and gentle hands caressing his hips. “We can still have sex with a condom, but I would pull out and absolutely no knot.”

“That’s the best part!” Dean complains indignantly, turning over in his arms and pushing up to his elbows so he can see his face.

Cas laughs softly. “I’m glad you think so, but there are millions of people who have sex and enjoy it every day without experiencing a knot.” Cas reaches up to brush his fingers down the side of his face, his eyes so full of love Dean could melt right on the spot. “I’d still be inside of you.”

Because he knows Cas, he knows that if the stubborn son of a bitch says he won’t knot him without more than a condom than he definitely won’t, so he nods. “I’ll go see the school nurse tomorrow. They make us check in after we use any heat days for school anyway.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Seizing his opportunity to do something he’s been wanting to do for a month now, he says, “I get something back, though.”

“Anything,” Cas promises.

He fucking hates the blush on his cheeks, but he knows this is his best chance. “Will you come to prom with me?”

The grin that spreads on Cas’s face is an unfairly attractive mix of smug and soft, and his fresh blueberry scent flooding the room is already an answer before he even speaks. “I would be honored to take you to prom, Dean Winchester,” he says solemnly.

“Oh my god, I’m not proposing. Get that smug look off of your face,” Dean says, giving into the urge to scent his alpha when he smells so happy.

“Sorry, can’t help it. I get to take the most gorgeous omega I’ve ever seen to prom. I deserve to feel smug. Every other alpha will be green with envy when they see you on my arm.”

“Other way around,” Dean says, still rubbing his face along his scent gland. “All my friends will be jealous of the sexy, older alpha I show up with, and they don’t even know how big your dick is.”

Castiel chuckles, his hand stroking through Dean’s hair at the back of his head indulgently. “There are no words for how much I adore you.”

“The polite thing to do is compliment my dick back, y’know.”

“My apologies,” Cas says, feigning seriousness now. His light, happy scent gives him away though, and Dean starts laughing as he says, “Out of all the dicks in the all the world, there is none so perfect as yours, my omega. So long, so thick, so deliciously sweet when you come into my mouth. No other dick could ever compare to the utter perfection of yours.”

Dean nuzzles into his scent gland, nipping at it and grinning when he feels Cas’s cock stirring back to life already. They’ve got about twenty minutes before Sam comes home from school, and he could totally go again.

He rolls over, out of Cas’s arms, and folds his own arms behind his head, gesturing down at where his omega cock is beginning to plump up. Cas’s eyes dart down to it before they look back up to his face. “You know what they say,” Dean says teasingly. “Actions speak louder than words.”

Cas is already slithering down his body, placing random, wet kisses on his way and running his big hands up Dean’s thighs, spreading them and inhaling deeply at the renewed scent of Dean’s slick in the air. “In that case, lay back and allow me to worship you, my omega.”

Ocean-blue eyes lock onto his right before Cas swallows him down to the root, and as Dean’s fingers push lovingly through his alpha’s thick hair to guide him into the lazy rhythm he’s craving, his brain is functioning _just_ enough to wonder what he ever did to deserve the best alpha in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**_2019_ **

Dean keeps his mind carefully blank as he drives the twenty minutes into town towards the hotel he and Sam are supposed to meet at. The inside of the Impala smelled like him and Cas when he first got inside, but it didn’t take long for the rank scent of burnt coffee and rejected omega to overpower everything else.

He tries to push it aside, tries to ignore the way his inner omega is already shouting at him to turn the car around and go back to his alpha, and instead, concentrates on the roads. They’re still slick from all the snow yesterday, and the twenty minutes he thought he had left to drive ends up being more than thirty by the time he pulls his car in next to Sam’s stupidly expensive hybrid SUV. His bones are still achy from the intensity of his heat, so it’s with a groan that he climbs out of his car, grabbing his backpack but deciding to leave the rest of his stuff in the trunk for now.

He knows he stinks like sex, heat, and Cas, but maybe he can get past Sam to grab a shower before he picks up on it. He knocks on the door, and it’s a few minutes of him standing there freezing his ass off before Sam pulls the door open and the comforting scent of brother and freshly cut cucumber hits his nose.

“‘bout freakin’ time, I was freezing my nuts off,” Dean complains as he brushes past him.

“Not like you need them,” Sam says with a quick flash of a smile. Then, Dean watches as his nostrils flare and his face contorts into a frown. “Oh my god, you _reek_ like -”

“I know,” he says gruffly, not needing Sam to remind him of how Cas’s blueberry scent is still clinging to his skin. “Just gotta grab a shower.”

“Water pressure sucks so you might need a few, holy shit,” Sam complains. “Seriously, burn your clothes once they’re off, too.”

“Like you don’t stink up the whole fucking city when you go into a rut,” Dean reminds him, dropping one of his bags at the foot of a bed and walking directly through the rest of the small hotel room to the bathroom.

He’s stripping off his clothes when Sam calls through the door. “Did you eat lunch yet?”

He swallows down a fresh wave of heartbreak when he thinks about the sandwiches Cas made them. “No, not yet.”

“I’ll go grab something. And seriously, air out the room when you’re done in the shower,” Sam adds, and Dean listens for the hotel room door to shut before he turns on the water. As soon as he steps into it he learns Sammy was right, the water pressure does suck, but at least it masks his tears when they start streaming down his face.

He’s glad Sam is gone, because now that he gives himself permission to feel everything, he _crumbles._ He’s never smelled his scent so bitter, so burnt, so _raw._ Twelve years he’s been waiting for Cas, pining for him every single day, dreaming about what it would be like when he found him again, and he had less than a day of happiness before it all blew up again. All this time he was so sure that Cas would’ve missed him as much as he missed Cas, that Cas would still love him like he promised, and so he was positive that as soon as they found each other again Cas would be as desperate to mate him as Dean was to be mated by him so that they could never _ever_ be apart again.

And for a few fantastic hours he thought he was right. He thought he had another chance to have everything he ever wanted. When he finally got to scent his alpha again and feel how perfectly they still fit together, he would have sworn on his goddamn car that he could see Cas looking at him the same way he looked at him so long ago. He could _feel_ Cas’s love the same way he was always able to before, and he didn’t care about anything else. It didn’t matter why they didn’t find each other at some point in the last twelve years, he didn’t care what Cas had been up to, or why he lived in a house his brother bought for him. All that mattered was knowing if Cas made him his mate with his bite, they would have forever to talk about all that shit. He wouldn’t have to worry about being torn away from Cas again, wouldn’t have to worry that he was wrong all along, wouldn’t have to doubt that he found the person he was supposed to be with forever at 17 years old. He would _know._ He would have irrefutable proof bitten into his skin forever and he could finally relax in his alpha’s arms for the first time in twelve years.

He was so damn sure it was gonna happen after Cas knotted him. He was positive. He’d been flying high with how happy he felt because he knew Cas felt the same way. Cas still loved him just as much as he did before and every second of waiting for him was fucking worth it because he’s always belonged to Cas. He knew he was right not to buy a place here even though he doesn’t want to leave because Cas was going to bite him and ask him to stay with him. He would end up exactly where he wanted to be all along, in a house on the lake with his alpha where he belonged.

Then he walked out of Cas’s bedroom to hear him on the phone. To hear Cas saying, “Of course I didn’t bite him, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not that stupid.” As if those words alone didn’t pierce right through his heart, right through every dream he’d been clinging to since he was 17 years old, it was his words to Dean a few minutes later that really killed him. “I loved you.”

I _loved_ you.

As he hears those three words as clear as day over again in his head, his shoulders start shaking so hard with his sobs that he has to lean against the shower wall with one hand to stay standing. He thought he knew how bad he could hurt, that being ripped away from Cas and his friends and his home all at once when he was 17 was the worst it could possibly get, but he was wrong. He was _so fucking wrong_ because now he doesn’t even have the one thing he clung to in order to survive the last twelve years.

Hope.

He should have known all along, because why would he of all people get a happy ending, even if it did come after twelve years of misery? No, it turns out he really was as stupid as he’s been told he was all these years. Whenever he tried to open up and tell anybody about how he was forced away from his first love at 17 and that no matter how hard he tried to fall in love with someone new he couldn’t because of it, they laughed at him and said he was crazy. He was told over and over again there’s no way somebody he hasn’t talked to for twelve years would still love him back, that no alpha would ever go a dozen years without knotting somebody, but none of that mattered. He trusted Cas. After all this time, he still believed him; he believed Cas would be waiting for him.

But the truth is, Cas isn’t in love with him anymore. Cas didn’t stay in love like he did with Cas. Cas must’ve come to his senses sometime over the last twelve years enough to realize there was nothing special about Dean after all. He was just a twink of an omega with a pretty face who Cas either pitied or got off on protecting at the time, and the reason Cas never came for him is probably because he never actually meant any of the shit he said about mating him when they got older. Maybe his dad had been right about one thing all along. Maybe all he ever was to Cas was a hole to fuck.

As if all of that isn’t already bad enough, the worst part is he knows he’ll _still_ never love anybody else the way he loves Cas. He knows because he fucking tried over and over again and he could never stomach having anybody else in bed with him because they weren’t Cas. They weren’t who he wanted, who he thought of and missed every single day. So obviously, that can only mean he’s going to live the rest of his life the same way he lived the last dozen years: alone and miserable and so fucking starved for the way Cas used to make him feel that he can barely make himself get out of bed some days.

Guess it's a good thing he's already used to that.

Searching desperately for something positive to grab on to, he tries to tell himself the same thing he’s told himself for twelve years: it was still all worth it. Every second of being with Cas, falling in love with Cas, being held by Cas, of having every inch of his body kissed and tasted and worshiped by Cas was absolutely worth it. Even if he only had it for less than a year, it was real, it was fucking special, and he wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. He had more love in his life the year he was 17 than most people have in a lifetime, and he needs to try to remember it like that from now on.

He comforts himself with those thoughts as he lathers up the soap and washes off the scent of heat, sweat, slick, and worst of all, his alpha. Tears still drip silently down his face and join the last lingering traces of Cas’s kisses as they swirl down the drain along with the only chance of happiness he’s ever had. His sobs catch in his throat as he finally accepts the reality of his life now. He doesn’t have an alpha anymore. He isn’t anybody’s omega. And he just left his job and his apartment and moved his brother back to Canada for absolutely nothing.

After a renewed bout of tears and sobbing that leaves his throat raw and his body drained, he realizes that as messed up as it is, laying everything out there and accepting just how truly fucked he is actually helps him to calm down. He’s officially hit rock bottom, and there’s something weirdly comforting about knowing this is as low as it can possibly get.

The water’s run almost entirely cold by the time he’s got himself back together enough to chance turning it off. “Sammy?” he calls out. No answer tells him he’s still alone, so he dries off and pulls on some new clothes, then opens the windows in the bathroom and the room itself even though it’s cold as fuck because even he can’t stand the way he’s stunk up the whole place. Thankfully it’s only a few minutes before his stench is replaced by the cool air, and like Sam was waiting for it, it’s only a couple minutes after that when he comes inside with two paper bags.

He sees that Sam’s nose still wrinkles up in distaste, but he doesn’t say anything else as he toes off his boots and drops one of the bags down in front of him. “Burger World.”

“Holy shit!” Dean says, surprised to feel excitement considering how miserable he was a second ago. “Actual Canadian poutine!”

“I know,” Sam says, grinning wide. “I ate some of mine in the car and it was even better than I remembered.”

“You bitch,” Dean complains lightly, already tearing into his bag.

They eat in relative silence, other than the sounds of pleasure they make while they chew, until Sam finally says, “I kinda thought you were gonna be an idiot and drive through the storm last night.”

Dean laughs with his mouth full. “You know me too well.”

“Where’d you end up? Get stuck at a hotel with magic fingers or something?”

Dean rolls his eyes, knowing Sam’s being a shithead since he obviously reeks like blueberries and alpha. “Fuck off.”

“Hey, you show up here smelling like that and I think it’s only fair I get to ask.”

“Like you don’t already know exactly what happened,” Dean says angrily. “And obviously it didn’t turn out well so I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You seriously tried to hook up but bailed halfway through _again?_ Is that why you smell like a slick factory?”

“I said let it go,” Dean says sharply.

“Fine,” Sam surrenders. “You can’t blame me for being curious. You smell like somebody just ate the last piece of pie - and no, I didn’t get pie. There’s enough calories in the meal to do us for a week,” Sam laughs.

“Speak for yourself, I’m eating the same thing for dinner.”

Sam chuckles and balls up the wrapper from his burger, launching it into the garbage can across the room. “Still got it,” he brags.

“Yeah, you’re seconds away from becoming famous for being the best garbage thrower. Congratulations.” He fights back a yawn and then asks, “We got another night booked here right?” Sam confirms with a nod, so Dean says, “I slept like shit last night so I’m gonna conk out for a few hours.”

“I’m sure your stomach will wake you up before dinner,” Sam says, smiling at his own joke.

Dean rolls his eyes again and says, “Ha ha,” before he pulls out his iPhone and ear buds.

He curls up on his bed, trying and failing not to think about how easy it had been to fall asleep with Cas’s arms around him last night, and it’s a testament to how bone-tired he really is when he drifts off only a few minutes later with silent tears rolling down his cheeks and the scent of rejected omega heavy in the air.

Castiel has approximately five minutes where he remains rooted to the spot, completely paralyzed with a mixture of fear and heartbreak from the sight of Dean walking out of his home - walking out _on him_ \- for a second time right before his eyes until he comes back to himself enough to shove his boots onto his feet and chase after him.

As he sees the taillights from the Impala disappear into the distance he realizes those five minutes were enough for Dean to brush the snow off of his car and drive away from him, not that it stops him from yelling after him until his voice is hoarse. He only just manages to drag himself back into his house before he collapses right there in the entryway, the weight of loss and regret so debilitating that he can’t even stay standing.

Dean left.

Dean left and it was all his fault because first he was careless and then he was defensive. He was so worried about protecting Dean that he’d hesitated when Dean asked him to prove his devotion to him, and in the process, he ended up losing him. Now he’s right back to where he was 12 years ago: alone, completely clueless as to where Dean is with no way to contact him, and regretting the choice he made not to mate with him when he had the chance.

It’s still true that Dean has no idea what a shamble his life has been since he left, but if Dean meant it when he said nothing else mattered as long as Castiel still loved him, then maybe he should have taken Dean at his word and let everything else fall into place after they were mated. At least then if Dean took off on him afterwards he would have known that he was coming back because he would have had to come back.

Now there’s absolutely nothing keeping Dean away from him for another twelve years, and if Castiel is certain about anything besides his love for Dean, it’s that there’s unequivocally no way he can survive losing him a second time. The only way he ever made it through their separation the first time around was the hope that Dean would one day make his way back to him. That Dean loved him just as fiercely as he always loved Dean and that the moment he was able to, he would be back by his side where he belonged.

There’s the tiniest comfort in knowing that he had been right even when he was screaming with pain at the top of his lungs after being separated from his omega. Dean came back for him and Dean’s admission of _always_ meant that he never stopped loving him... but how can that help in any significant way now when Castiel was the one who fucked up badly enough that Dean not only left again, but _chose_ to leave him this time?

That reminder is enough to make the cavern in his chest where his heart used to be erupt with so much pain that he can’t even breathe through it. He feels as if his heart and soul have been ripped out of his body and disappeared into nothingness along with Dean for a second time. Wracked with sobs so agonizing he feels his stomach churning with nausea, he’s forced to hobble down the hallway and into the bathroom where he expels everything inside of him into the toilet bowl.

Minutes, hours, years later for all he knows, Castiel finally drags himself into the shower for a quick wash, removing the bandages Dean applied so carefully the night before, then he returns to his bedroom where any remaining shreds of composure he was holding on to are decimated by the cinnamon coffee scent floating in the air and clinging to his bed sheets. He barely manages to pull on an old pair of jeans and a ratty old t-shirt before he dissolves into a heap of tears, mucus, and sorrow as he buries his nose in the one spot that smells the most like the only person he’s ever loved, painfully aware that the lingering scent of _home_ and _mate_ filling his nostrils right now will fade forever in a matter of hours and leave him with nothing but the broken shell of the alpha he always dreamed he would be.

He stays like that, wrapped in his blankets with tears falling steadily down his face and regret gnawing at his stomach like acid for hours until he hears a knock on the door. Hope so bright it’s almost blinding shoots through him at the possibility of Dean back at his door, and he staggers there on shaky legs, a new sob bursting from his throat when he struggles with the handle in his excitement, only to finally get it open to find...

“Ho-lee shit. Who _died_ in here?” Gabriel questions, his face screwing up into an expression of disgust. “It smells like somebody set fire to rotten fruit and c-”

“Leave,” Castiel interrupts him. “Get out.”

Gabriel’s laugh crows out of him as both his toffee scent and his actual body pushes his way past Castiel and into his house like he - _oh._ He supposes he doesn’t technically have a right to ask Gabriel to leave considering he owns this house, but that doesn’t mean he has to commiserate with him. Turning on his heels, he leaves Gabriel behind him to take off his coat and boots and heads directly back to his bedroom without another word.

"What happened to the ole melon, eh?" Gabriel asks as he walks into his room.

"I was in a car accident, remember?" Castiel reminds him begrudgingly.

“Ohhh right. Anyway, where’d the big bad alpha go, Cassie?” Gabriel says. When Castiel turns enough to pin him with a withering stare, Gabriel grins wider. “What? I just wanna talk,” he says menacingly.

“When you find him, let me know,” Castiel says miserably, diving back onto his bed to throw the covers over his head.

“Whew,” Gabriel huffs. “Guess even if he didn’t hang around, setting eyes on the freckled-face fucker was enough to pop your knot again, huh?” Castiel fumes at the implication - true or not - and refuses to say a word. “Even I can tell it smells like you were up all night shaking hands with the milkman.”

 _That_ is just weird enough to have him asking, “What?” before he can think not to.

Dean dreams of dark chocolate and blueberry, of big hands and soft blue eyes, of kisses to the top of his head and the three words he’s dreamed of hearing again for twelve years.

When he wakes up he almost chokes on how thick the scent of rejected omega is, and even worse is smelling Sam’s sour vinegar added to it.

He wipes the dried tears off of his face, pulls his ear buds out, and sits up, looking around for Sam who is pacing between their beds.

“What happened?” Dean asks, concerned.

Sam tilts his head to the side, his long hair falling in front of his face like curtains. “Why do you smell like somebody died? And why did you keep saying Cas’s name in your sleep?”

Dean falls back onto his bed and pulls the covers up over his head with a long, put-upon groan. Sam knew he was coming back here to try to find Cas. He’s the only one who supported Dean trying to find him, even though Sam kept saying it would be good to get closure when he knew that’s not what Dean wanted.

“I’m an idiot okay?” He stays under the blanket, knowing he can’t stand to see the pity or _I told you so_ look on Sam’s face. “He doesn’t - he never meant all the shit he said before and I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Are you still talking about Cas?” Sam asks, sounding surprised.

Knowing that Sam can _smell_ Cas on him has him swallowing down his anger. “Drop the act Sam, it’s really pissing me off and I already had a terrible fucking morning, okay?”

Sam tugs the blankets off of his head and puts his hands up in surrender when he gets a glimpse of Dean’s murderous glare. “It’s not an act. I’m totally lost.”

Throwing his own hands up in the air in exasperation, Dean says, “Obviously I spent the night with Cas.”

Sam’s look of surprise is entirely genuine, and Dean has no idea what the fuck is going on. Then Sam throws him off even further when he says, “Wow, I’m impressed.”

Dean blinks at him. “What?”

“What?” Sam echoes, laughing a little. “I guess the bruise on your neck makes sense now but if you two spent the night together and didn’t end up mated or knotted within the first five minutes, I’m weirdly proud of you.” Dean just keeps gaping at him. What the fuck is he talking about? “Even if you did spend the night beating off to thoughts of him afterwards,” he adds, laughing through a grimace. “Some things don’t change apparently.”

“Your nose broken or something?” Dean finally asks.

“What are you talking about? Why are you being so weird?” Sam asks, frowning at him. “Are you sick?” He sniffs the air and grimaces again. “You’re not in heat and you don’t _smell_ sick.”

“Stop acting like you can’t smell him all over me!”

Sam shakes his head, squinting his eyes in confusion until he seems to get it. “Ohhh! He was wearing blockers?”

 _“I reek_ like blueberries!” Dean finally explodes with. “It’s all over me! All over my scent gland, all over my clothes, my car, fucking seeped into my skin. It’s all I can smell even after I showered and I know there’s no way you can’t smell it too so stop fucking lying about it!”

Sam’s voice is gentle but just as confused as it was before when he says, “You always smell like blueberries.”

 _That_ takes the wind out of his sails. “What?”

“Blueberry and coffee. That’s the first thing I smelled when my secondary gender presented as alpha. That’s how you’ve always smelled. That’s family and brother and home, Dean. You’ve always smelled like blueberry coffee.”

“Oh my god,” Dean gasps, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates when he finally figures out what Sam is saying. “Holy shit, Sam. _Holy fuck!”_

To Sam’s credit, he’s only half a second behind him. “You scent bonded?”

“He’s mine and I left him,” Dean realizes in horror, already scrambling up to get his boots back on.

“You scent bonded ten years ago and it never broke?” Sam asks again, following him to the door.

 _“Cas_ smells like blueberry, Sam,” Dean insists, stepping into his boots. “Blueberry and dark chocolate and all hot and buttery sometimes, too. I smell like coffee and cinnamon sugar.”

“You smell like cinnamon when you’re in heat,” Sam confirms. “But blueberry is just as strong as coffee in your scent any other time.”

Dean shoves his arms into his jacket with a smile on his face. He never admitted it out loud but this is confirmation of his wildest dream come true and he can’t possibly stay away from Cas now that he knows. “Wasn’t before I met Cas.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why don’t you know what you smell like?”

“No fuckin’ clue,” Dean admits, still smiling. “But I know exactly what it means and there’s no way I’m letting him get away again. I gotta go.”

“When are you coming back?” Sam asks as Dean throws the door open.

“No idea, hopefully never,” Dean says with a laugh. “I’ll text you or whatever. Don’t worry, Sammy, I got this. I finally fucking got this.”

Gabriel cackles with laughter, probably half because he’s proud of his joke about the milkman that went totally over his head and half because he’s proud he got Castiel to break and talk.

“Come on, Cassie. Choking the chicken? Spanking the monkey? Why are so many euphemisms for jerking off based on abusing animals, anyway?” he asks, surely not expecting an answer from Castiel.

He has absolutely no idea why Gabriel would think he’s been up masturbating half the night when the room reeks like Dean just as much as it smells like him, but at this point in his life, he’s beyond trying to understand his brother. “Go away, Gabriel.”

“I would, but you playing tickle the pickle all night still doesn’t explain why you smell like a garbage can in July. Or why there’s two uneaten...” Gabriel stops mid-sentence, and the string of expletives that comes out next mixed with how the salty tang is now overpowering the usual candy-sweet scent of toffee is all the confirmation Castiel needs to know he finally figured it out. “You better hope that son of a bitch got a decent head start before he bailed again because when I get my hands on him, his omega ass is going to get up-close and personal with my -”

He stops all of the sudden and Castiel can only _dream_ he ran out of gas that early for the first time in his entire life, but then the real reason becomes obvious when Castiel hears it. A knock on the door. For the second time, he throws the blankets off of himself and takes off at full speed down the hallway.

Unfortunately, Gabriel was already on his feet and closer to the door than he was to start with, so it’s his brother who pulls the door open to a nervous looking Dean.

And it’s Gabriel who takes one look at him and slams the door back in his face without a word.

“Gabriel!” Castiel shouts.

Gabriel _childishly_ positions himself in front of the door with one hand planted on either side of the door frame to hold himself in place, and he shouts, “Sorry, Dean-o, Castiel grew a pair and emptied them _a lot_ when you were gone so now he has no reason to forgive you or your selfish, abandoning ass.”

“Dean, don’t listen to him,” Castiel says sharply, raising his voice so he’ll be able to hear him through the door. “Give me a second to get rid of my brother -”

“LALALALA DEAN CAN’T HEAR YOU,” Gabriel shouts and Castiel is suddenly _fuming_ and growling with it _._

How _dare_ anybodyattempt to come between him and his omega again?

He gets right into his brother’s face for the first time in his life, slamming his hands into the door on either side of Gabriel’s smaller frame and snarls, “If he leaves again because of you _so help me god,_ Gabriel, there will not be a corner shady enough in all of Las Vegas to hide you from me.”

Gabriel chokes and sputters, waving his hand in front of his face. “Jesus, stop reeking up the place for five seconds, would you?”

“Get away from the door,” Castiel says slowly.

Gabriel tries once more. “Just gimme one reason -”

Castiel raises his voice again. “If you don’t move in the next three seconds I will pick you up by your underwear and toss you head first into the biggest snowbank I can find.”

Gabriel arches his eyebrows and replies, “Bold of you to assume I’m wearing underwear.”

Another growl claws its way out of his throat and Gabriel’s eyes go almost comically wide before he ducks out of Castiel’s arms mumbling something about a muzzle under his breath, but Castiel has already forgotten about him in his hurry to get the front door open as fast as humanly possible.

Dean shoots him the same cocky smile he’s seen hundreds of times before - the one he tries to use as a shield when he’s feeling vulnerable and nervous - and Castiel’s heart soars at the sight. Dean doesn’t even have to say sorry for leaving, he can see the apology written all over his face as clear as day.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Castiel tells him. “Gabriel is... well, you know Gabriel,” he finishes. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean swallows hard but nods, and Castiel steps to the side to let him through the door, subtly trying to inhale as much of his rich coffee scent as he can. Dean smells nervous, but there's happiness there that erases most of Castiel's nerves.

“Well, well, well, look what the dumbass dragged in,” Gabriel says, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Dean down despite the fact that Dean towers over him.

For Dean’s part, he stays close to Castiel’s side (which, again, fills him with hope) and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Always thought you’d hit a growth spurt eventually, but I guess not, huh?”

“What I lack in height I more than make up for with length,” Gabriel shoots back. Castiel has heard that retort so many times it barely even registers, but Dean snickers with laughter. “And allow me to remind you that I own this house, so watch your mouth before I call the cops and get you escorted off of my property.”

Even though he already told Dean that his brother bought his house, shame rises up inside of him hearing Gabriel say it like that. Like Castiel has so little control in his life that he doesn’t even have the authority to keep Dean here if Gabriel decides otherwise.

“I get you’re pissed, okay?” Dean says. “If somebody treated Sammy the same way I treated Cas I’d wanna rip them apart, too.”

“You don’t have to answer to him,” Castiel insists.

Dean turns towards him and he can see the depth of his regret reflected in his emerald green eyes. “I fucked up, Cas,” he says quietly. “I never shoulda left just because you let slip you’re not in love with me anymore.” Castiel gapes at him, trying to understand why in the world Dean would think that when Castiel had said no such thing. “It was stupid. It’s been twelve damn years since we’ve even seen each other, of course you don’t -”

“I do,” Castiel interrupts him. He feels almost juvenile admitting to the insane truth, especially in front of Gabriel, but after he just spent the last several hours thinking he’d never get to tell Dean again, he isn’t about to let any other chances pass him by. “I never stopped loving you,” he clarifies, watching as Dean’s mouth goes from parted with shock to curving into a soft smile that nearly takes his breath away. “I don’t know what I said to make you think I didn’t love you anymore, but I’m sorry for it. I didn’t mean that. I do still love you; I’ve always loved you.”

Dean nods shakily, taking a half a step towards him before glancing at Gabriel and ultimately deciding not to come any closer. Looking back at Castiel, he seems contrite when he says, “You probably would’ve explained that if I didn’t storm out, huh?”

Castiel’s lips quirk. “I feel sure it would have come up sooner than later, but you’re back now so that’s all that matters.”

“As much as I hate to break up this very merry Hallmark moment,” Gabriel says sarcastically. “Which is _not at all,_ in case that wasn’t clear by the way. You’re not getting another foot into this house until you explain exactly what happened twelve years ago.” Dean looks at Castiel but Gabriel says, “And I’m not gonna take some bullshit reason like forgetting a phone number like my Pollyanna of a brother over here so don’t even try it.”

Knowing that Gabriel isn’t going to let this go, Castiel turns to Dean and says, “Why don’t you take off your coat and boots and come into the kitchen so we can all talk. I know Gabriel wants to know what happened to Sam almost as badly as I want to know what happened to you."

Dean ducks his head but ultimately nods. They walk down the hallway into the kitchen in a very heavy silence underlined by the scathing looks Gabriel keeps shooting Dean. Thankfully, Dean just keeps smiling broadly every time he does it and Castiel is the only one who seems to feel truly uncomfortable with the tension between them. Besides that, it’s unnatural to be this close to Dean without touching him.

Feeling like he needs something to do, he gestures to the coffee maker. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean answers, reaching across the table to give his hand a squeeze. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel smiles in response, buoyed by his touch, and walks over to the counter.

“Maybe the new coffee will help to get rid of the burnt coffee scent in the air,” Gabriel says darkly, surprising Castiel. Earlier it didn’t seem like Gabriel could smell Dean, and Dean doesn’t smell like burnt coffee now, so what is he talking about? “Which reminds me, thanks a lot for breaking his heart twice in a row, ass wipe. I can still hardly breathe through the stench.”

“I thought you couldn’t smell him when you got here?” Castiel asks.

“What? Smell who?” Gabriel questions. Then he points to Dean, “Him? Of course I can’t smell him. Figured his dad’s archaic crap finally got through to him and he’s wearing blockers because god forbid _real men_ smell like omegas, right?” Gabriel asks Dean darkly.

When Castiel expected Dean to be insulted or at least confused, he’s surprised when he looks over at him and sees the amused smile on his face.

“Hey, Gabe?” Dean asks.

“Dean, don’t worry about him."

“No, it’s good, Cas. This is actually perfect.” Once again, Castiel’s absolutely thrown by the laughter in Dean’s eyes and the big smile on his face when he faces Gabriel. “So, yeah, just outta curiosity, what does Cas smell like?”

Gabriel looks between both Dean and Castiel in bemusement. “Did your nose stop working or something?”

“Humor me,” Dean presses him, turning his eyes back to Castiel as if waiting for his reaction.

“He smells like blueberries, and thanks to you being a raging dick, burnt coffee.”

Castiel officially has no idea what’s going on. Did Gabriel get drunk on the flight here? “Why would you think Dean was wearing blockers if all you can smell is burnt coffee all over me?” he asks Gabriel. “You're not making any sense.”

“What does shit for brains have to do with burnt coffee?” Gabriel is looking between them again, and finally, Castiel turns back to Dean, who still has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 _“I_ smell like coffee.” Dean announces it triumphantly, almost like he’s smug about disclosing this little bit of obvious information to Gabriel, and for the life of him, Castiel can’t understand why.

Gabriel shakes his head at the same time he huffs out a laugh. “Cassie's  _my brother,_  you really don’t think I don’t know what he smells like? He’s always smelled like blueberry coffee.”

“I _what?”_ Castiel exclaims, stunned stupid for the second time today.

But before Gabriel can answer, Dean’s standing up and approaching him. “Sam just told me the same thing,” he says, his voice and eyes alight with wonder. “Sam just told me I smell like blueberry coffee, Cas. He said I’ve _always_ smelled like blueberry coffee.”

“This is bullshit,” Gabriel says, shoving his chair back and getting to his feet as well.

Dean sticks his wrist out towards Gabriel without even looking at him, obviously daring him to scent him. Castiel watches as Gabriel takes the bait and sniffs. Stiffens. Frowns. Sniffs again. Takes a step back with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled into a sneer. “This is - this just because you fucked,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at them. “You fucked, didn’t you? You knotted him and that’s why you smell like each other.”

“You know that’s not how it works,” Dean says, and Castiel notes with interest that he sounds angry for the first time since he got here. “You didn’t sniff my ass where he knotted me or my neck where he marked me. It’s my wrist.”

“So you scent bonded when you fucked. Big deal,” Gabriel says with an angry-looking shrug. “It’ll break in a few hours and everything will go back to normal. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You just said Cas _always_ smelled like me,” Dean reminds him.

Castiel is experiencing so many emotions all at once he feels like his heart is about to pound right out of his chest. “We scent bonded,” he whispers, drawing Dean’s eyes back to his. “We scent bonded twelve years ago?”

Dean nods. “That’s why I could never stand the scent of anybody else. Why no other alpha ever touched me. I was always yours, Cas.”

Those words are magic to his ears and he wishes more than anything that he could believe them, but...

“Dean,” Castiel says gently. “Gabriel’s right. This doesn’t make any sense. Scent bonds don’t last twelve years.”

Despite the tension and uncertainty in the air, his eyelids flutter shut to soak in the sensation of Dean’s hand cupping his face, so gentle and loving. He loves Dean _so much._ He’s never wanted anything to be true more than he wants Dean to have been his all along. The happiness filling his heart over the minuscule chance that it's possible also streams from his scent gland, and he can smell fresh blueberry and dark chocolate pumping into the air like it’s coming from an aerosol can.

“They do if you’re true mates.”

It’s Gabriel’s voice who says it, but when he opens his eyes again in absolute shock, all he can see is Dean. Green eyes looking down into his (which is the moment he first notices that Dean is _taller_ than him now - when did _that_ happen?) as sincere and open and pleading as he’s ever seen them, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt Dean’s feelings again, but this is nonsense.

“True mates aren’t real,” Castiel says quietly.

“What? ‘course they are,” Dean objects. “Back me up, Gabe.”

“As much as I hate to agree considering I can see exactly where this is going, they do exist. They’re just really, really rare,” Gabriel admits.

“Come on, Cas. Think about it,” Dean implores him. “You went into a rut the second we met and I was miserable for days when I thought you didn’t want me and I didn’t even know you! You could smell me through my scent blockers that one time at the rink. The first time we had sex your knot didn’t go down for almost _an hour.”_

The puzzle pieces fall into place in a moment: the initial pull he felt to Dean from the first second he smelled him, his rut being triggered by meeting him the first time, how he had fallen into a depression when Dean left him in 2007, how he feels like he hasn't slept properly since he slept with Dean, how no other omega _ever_ smelled appealing to him in twelve years, how he never stopped loving someone he never spoke to or laid eyes on in more than a decade, how Dean of all people found him in the snowstorm, how Dean went into heat the very day they crossed paths again...

He realizes with a sense of wonder what an incredible jumble of fate, biology, and their own free will it must have taken to ensure he and Dean ended up together the way they were always meant to.

“You’re my mate,” Castiel whispers, unable to catch his breath with the magnitude of emotions building inside of him.

“Your true mate,” Dean corrects. “I was always yours.”

Castiel has to blink the tears out of his eyes as his hands come up to frame Dean’s beautiful, gorgeous, _brilliant_ face. “Tell me this is it, Dean. Don’t tell me we’re true mates only to walk away from me again. Tell me this is you saying you want forever now, no matter what. You don’t leave, I don’t leave. We stay even when it’s hard and terrifying and tiring.”

“Want you to gimme your bite, make it official,” Dean agrees, also sounding breathless. “It’s all I ever wanted, Cas. I came back here _for you,_ even before I knew this true mates stuff. I came back to find you and tell you that it was always you, it never stopped being you.” Hearing those words and seeing the heart felt emotion Dean uses to say them causes the first and second tears to fall, trickling down his cheeks before Dean wipes them away with gentle fingers. “We can stay here if you want. Hell, I can buy out Gabe and we can live here in this house on the lake like we always said we would. I’ve got enough money to take care of us both now, just like you took care of me and Sammy back then. I know I still can’t - I can’t have pups,” he says, stumbling for the first time and causing a piece of Castiel's heart to crumble. “But if you want them, we can figure it out. We can adopt -”

Castiel feels his heart sink into his stomach a millisecond before Gabriel says, “Aaaand the other shoe drops.”

Dean doesn’t flinch or pull his eyes away from Castiel’s, but he does ask, “What’s that mean?”

Castiel shares a split-second look with Gabriel. His brother’s arms folding across his chest and his head cocked to the side says, _If you don’t tell him, I will_ as clearly as if he opened his mouth and said the words aloud.

Castiel swallows hard, his scent already beginning to sour from the expectation of having his heart broken all over again. He drops his hands away from Dean’s perfect face and takes a step back, not wanting Dean to feel pressured into pretending he still wants a future with him after he admits this.

Dean follows him though, keeping his hands on Castiel's face as he speaks. "I told you there were - there are things you need to know about me before we make this official," Castiel begins. "You might not - w-want me after I tell you, and if that's the case, I hope you know that I'll -" He has to stop to swallow again, to force the words out. "I'll understand, but I will keep loving you just the same. Always."

“Cas, whatever it is, it doesn’t matter,” Dean says firmly. His voice is softer, quieter, just for him when he adds, “You’re my alpha. I love you.”

He gives himself five indulgent seconds to remember how good it feels to hear from Dean for the first time in twelve years, fully aware that it could very possibly be the last time he ever hears him say it.

Then he meets Dean’s eyes and admits the thing he's most ashamed of, exactly why his life is in shambles, and why they’ll never be able to adopt.

“Dean - I’m - I’m a registered sex offender.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, I only write happy endings, and though there are a few things in this chapter that I know seem “out there” or don’t make sense... just wait.


	11. Chapter 11

**_2007_ **

It’s near the end of June when Dean pulls the Impala into his high school parking lot wearing a baggy suit he picked up second-hand from Value Village, a white rose boutonniere pinned to his shirt, and the hottest guy in the fucking city sitting next to him smelling like heaven and looking like sin in his charcoal grey three piece suit.

Even though Dean is the one driving, Cas jumps out of his seat to run around to his side of the car to open the door for him, and Dean can’t help the blush on his face anymore than he can wipe away the dumb smile.

“You truly look breathtaking tonight, Dean,” Cas says again as he offers his arm to escort him inside.

“We both know my suit’s a size too big, you don’t need to lay it on so thick,” Dean deflects.

“Considering I’d think you’re beautiful wearing nothing but a paper bag, I don’t think it should be a surprise to anybody - least of all you - that I find you absolutely stunning in a suit,” Cas says smoothly. “And no one will be able to tell it’s a little bit too big once I have you down to your dress shirt on the dance floor.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “I gotta keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t break a hip out there, though.”

“We’ll see who has trouble keeping up with who,” Cas replies easily.

They reach the front door of the school, which Cas pulls open for him to walk through, and the second they’re through it, Cas wraps his arm around his back. When a big hand settles on his hip possessively he’s absolutely _glowing_ with pride. He isn’t the smartest kid in the school, he’s sure as hell not a jock, and he doesn’t have a lot of money or a ton of friends, but he knows for damn sure he’s showing up here with the sexiest alpha and he’s going to milk it for all that it’s worth.

Cas reaches into his jacket pocket and produces the two tickets Dean picked up for them with Cas’s money, and they get into the back of a small line of people in front of a table. He leans back against Castiel’s chest and smiles when he feels his arms come around him from behind. His smile only grows when Cas’s nose brushes his scent gland, which is both a possessive and romantic gesture that makes his heart sing. He knows he’s being more affectionate than he would usually be in public, but he wants people here to see that he and Cas are in love, and obviously Cas is on board. His eyes must have slipped closed while he was enjoying the shivers moving along his skin, because he’s startled when a familiar voice calls, “Can I help who’s next, please?”

He tries to keep his face carefully neutral when he steps up to Lisa, head of the goddamn prom committee, but thankfully he doesn’t have to say anything because Cas beats him to it.

“Hello again,” Cas says, and though he sounds perfectly polite, Dean can hear the lack of warmth in his voice. With a voice as low and rough as Cas’s is already, the missing kindness makes a huge difference.

“Welcome to the class of 2007 senior prom!” Lisa says back. “Tickets please?”

Cas passes them over, Lisa checks them off of a list, and then Dean gets hit with a sudden burst of bitter lemon scent. He’s already bracing for some bitchy comment when she says, “Student IDs?”

Cas chuckles lightly but pulls out his wallet anyway. “Mine’s just slightly out of date, but will a driver’s license work?”

She makes a show of wincing apologetically and turning to the people on either side of her awkwardly. “I’m so sorry! It’s school board policy. Everybody attending the prom has to be a current high school student. Didn’t anybody tell you?” she says to Dean, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Dean can smell Cas’s rotting blueberry scent mingling with his own burnt coffee, and he’s about to tell Lisa she damn well knew nobody told him because this is all a steaming pile of horse shit, but before he can say anything, Cas responds. “No, we weren’t made aware of that. It’s no trouble though. Are there any teachers available I can speak to? I’m a tutor here part time. I’m sure they’d be willing to reconsider since I’ve already passed a police check and have an established working relationship with the school.”

Lisa turns behind her to, of fucking course, the biggest douchebag on staff, Mr. Adler.

He doesn’t hesitate at all before he says, “Rules are rules, boys.”

Bitter coffee floods the room as Dean realizes this is never going to happen. Of course he doesn’t get to have this, doesn’t get to have _one night_ where his boyfriend and his friends get to be in the same room together dancing and having fun. Of course he doesn’t get to have his first dance with Cas, doesn’t get to know what it feels like to be spun around the dance floor with his head on his alpha’s strong chest.

Cas wraps his arm around him again and tucks him in nice and close, wordlessly trying to reassure him. He knows Cas is desperate to fix this, because for the first time in the almost six months he’s known him, he does something he’s never seen or heard him do before: he uses his name. “Is the principal available by any chance? Surely she’d be willing to make an exception considering my mother, Naomi Milton, donates tens of thousands of dollars to the school board annually.”

“Good for her,” Mr. Adler says sarcastically. “I don’t care how deep your pockets are, no means no.” Cas opens his mouth to say something else, but Adler interrupts him. “Now, you’re holding up the line. Winchester, you can stay or go, I don’t care, but Milton, if I have to ask you to leave the premises again, the school will have a new record for how fast the police were called on prom night.”

Though Dean can smell dark chocolate heavy in the air betraying Cas's anger, Cas nods, buttons his jacket and says, “My apologies. Just give us a moment to work something out." Then he places gentle pressure on Dean’s arm and draws him into the corner where he cups his face and kisses his forehead. “I’m so sorry about all of this. You only get one senior prom, coffee bean, and -”

“No.” He already knows exactly what Cas is going to say and he’s not staying here without him. “I only wanted to do this in the first place because it was with you. I’m not staying here alone.”

“Dean,” Cas says gently. “These are your peers, your friends, the same people you’ve spent five days a week with for the last two years. You’ve all worked so hard to graduate and you should stay and celebrate with them. You don’t even have to stay the whole time. Just an hour to say hi to your friends, compare silly dance moves, and find out if the punch is spiked or not.”

Dean’s already shaking his head. “I don’t wanna do any of that shit if you’re not with me, Cas.”

“I understand you’re upset. I am, too, but I don’t want you to look back on this and regret not going inside just because of me. You shouldn’t have to live your whole life without knowing what high school prom is like,” Cas implores him.

“Like I don’t already know it’s gonna smell like the locker rooms and have shitty music?”

Cas’s lips quirk into a tiny smile and he leans down to brush their lips together softly. “You know I’m not going to tell you what to do, but it would make me really happy if you gave it a shot without me.” Dean aims a petulant look up at him, knowing damn well that Cas knows he’s playing dirty. “I will come back for you in one hour, and after that, we’ll spend the night together at my place just like we planned.”

Desire curls low in his groin at the reminder. “If we both left now we’d get to that part sooner,” Dean points out.

“Yes, but this way I’ll have more time to place the flower petals and candles,” Cas says, clearly teasing.

Dean rolls his eyes playfully, battling internally with wanting to tell Lisa to go fuck herself and leaving on Cas’s arm and wanting to do what will make Cas happy and stay to hang out with his friends for a little while. Charlie, Jo, and Benny had all apologized profusely for what happened at the party, and they were all excited about getting another chance to hang out with him and Cas. He knows they’ll be looking for him if he doesn’t show up, and Cas _is_ right when he said he only gets one prom. He sighs heavily for show, fixes Cas with an even stare, and bargains, “I stay for one hour to the damn minute, and in exchange, you promise me no freaking rose petals on the bed.”

Cas’s face lights up with his bright smile, and though he can see in his blue eyes that it’s killing Cas to leave him behind, he leans in to give him a soft kiss. “You have yourself a deal. Now I just need your keys.”

Dean fishes them out of his pocket and hands them over reluctantly. “You put a single scratch on her and my dad will eat you for lunch.”

“He can try,” Cas says with a confident huff of laughter that makes desire curl in his groin. “Let me escort you back to the table.”

Dean nods wearily and Castiel takes his arm and leads him right back to the front of the line. “We’ll take a refund for the price of one ticket,” Cas tells Lisa. “And my stunning omega will stay here just long enough to cause every other person in the school to eat their hearts out with envy,” Cas says proudly.

Lisa offers him a fake smile and his money back, and then Cas surprises the shit out of him when he wraps his arms around him, tips him back into an actual fucking dip and captures his lips in a long, drawn-out kiss that makes his stomach swoop and his ass cheeks dampen right there in front of Lisa and everybody else waiting in line behind him. A few kids whoop and cheer, and Dean’s pink cheeked, starry-eyed, and completely breathless when Cas sets him back on his feet.

Cas’s blue eyes are glittering with mischief when he brings his hand to his lips and kisses the back of it chastely. He winks once before he says, “I’ll see you soon,” and struts out of the school with every single pair of eyes in the foyer following him like the bad ass, sexy alpha that he is.

It doesn’t take long to realize that Cas still managed to give him exactly what he wanted out of coming to prom with him, because he overhears the story of ‘a hot, rich, older alpha claiming his omega, Dean Winchester, before he stormed out of the school’ being retold a dozen times before he even has time to learn the punch actually _is_ spiked.

Though he does have more fun than he thought he would jumping around on the dance floor with his friends, he keeps his eye on his watch, and true to his word, he leaves the gym slightly flushed and sweaty with his jacket draped over his arm walking towards the front doors of the school. Of course, Cas is standing just inside waiting for him, hands in the pants pockets of the suit he still has on, suit jacket spread open and revealing his crisp white dress shirt and navy blue tie hanging loosely around his neck. He’s fucking gorgeous. Even from across the hall, Dean can see his bright blue eyes all but shining back at him, and he unconsciously increases his pace until he’s in his arms.

Cas’s nose goes right to his neck and he scents him eagerly, like they didn’t just do that a few hours before, already increasing his heart rate and making him itch to get even closer.

“Making sure I saved all my dances for you, alpha?” Dean teases him.

“Trying to trace the scents of anybody I might have to hunt down for putting their hands on my omega,” Cas confirms.

Dean feels a shiver move down his spine at hearing Cas call him his omega. “Only want your hands on me.”

“And I am more than happy to help you with that as soon as we get to my place,” Cas tells him, finally tearing himself away from his scent gland just long enough to kiss him soundly. As usual, Dean melts into him, parting his lips and waiting for Cas’s tongue to sweep into his mouth, which it does. It’s a firm, insistent kiss that has Dean clinging to his alpha, wishing he could climb right into his lap here and now to get closer to him still. Cas pulls away way too soon (it’s always way too soon, every damn time), but then he nuzzles their noses together and pecks him twice more as Dean breathes in the smell of their mingling scents happily. “It’s torture having to keep my hands off of your ass in public,” Cas says quietly. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Cas hands the keys back to him once they’re outside, and once again opens Dean’s door for him to get inside. He throws his jacket in the back seat and drives to Cas’s place with one hand on the steering wheel and one on Cas’s knee. He tells Cas all about the last hour, how grossly exaggerated his exit was, and eventually pulls into what he’s come to think of as his spot in the garage.

Cas wraps his arm around his shoulder while they walk through the house, kissing his temple right before he says, “I’m really happy you don’t smell nervous.”

Dean chuckles lightly, knowing exactly what he’s alluding to. They’d talked about having sex for the first time a lot since he went through his heat, and after way more discussion than he ever thought he’d have about sex, they both agreed prom would be a good time to do it. They arranged for both Sam and Gabe to spend the night at another friend’s house so they don’t have to worry about them at all, Cas’s mom is gone on a business trip, and his dad hasn’t come back since he scent marked him. He knows exactly what’s going to happen when he gets to Cas’s bedroom, and he’s ready. He knows how lucky he is to have his first time be with somebody he loves, somebody he trusts, and somebody he knows will take good care of him no matter what.

“Not like you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Dean says.

“Even still, it’s a big step for both of us, but you especially.”

“Why, ‘cause I’m younger?”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all,” Cas says. “But as the omega, you’re the only one at risk of physical pain or getting pregnant.”

“Chances of getting knocked up while I’m on the pill _and_ you’re wearing a condom are super low, and the chances of you ever hurting me are even less. You’d never.”

“I’ll certainly do everything in my power not to,” Cas agrees. “But before we get to that...” Dean frowns when they pause at Cas’s closed bedroom door. Then he opens it with a flourish and Dean is left standing there gaping at the sight in front of him,

The first words that come out of his mouth are, “You said no rose petals!” but it’s not like there’s any heat behind them, because how could there be?

“You said no rose petals on the bed,” Cas reminds him, walking through the piles of white rose petals scattered artfully on his bedroom floor towards his CD player. “I know you have a preference for classic rock music, but I had to borrow a CD from my mother’s collection so you’re going to have to suffer through one sappy song for me.”

Dean can barely even take in what he’s saying, because not only are there rose petals all over the floor and sweetening the air, there’s dozens of tea light candles burning on top of every flat surface, lighting the bedroom in a soft, flickering glow. It looks romantic as hell and he can hardly believe somebody like Cas is willing to do something like this _for him,_ and then before he can make sense out of any of it, Cas is standing in front of him with his hand outstretched.

“May I have this dance?” Cas asks formally.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. And as the opening chords of “I’ll Be,” by Edwin McCain fills the bedroom, Cas slides his hands around Dean’s hips and Dean’s loop around Cas’s neck. His heart’s completely turned to mush, which probably accounts for his sappy declaration. “You can have all my dances.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Cas says gently, his blueberry/dark chocolate scent blooming with happiness.

The candlelight reflects in the blue pools of Cas’s eyes, making shadows dance on his chiseled features as they rotate in the middle of his bedroom, and he’s damn sure that it’s impossible to love anybody more than he loves Cas in this moment. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I wasn’t going to miss dancing with you on your prom night for anything,” Cas replies. “Not when I knew how much you were looking forward to it.”

Before he goes and does something absolutely mortifying like cry in his alpha’s arms, he drops his head to his shoulder and closes his eyes, willing himself to remember this exact moment when all that matters in the whole entire world is Cas. The warmth of Cas’s chest, his large hands feeling so perfect on the curve of his lower back, the joy and affection in their scents mixed so thoroughly in the air that he couldn’t pick out where one begins and the other ends anymore even if he wanted to - which he doesn’t.

The quiet of their even breathing and the soothing voice of Edwin McCain are the only things he can hear, so it’s impossible not to listen to the words.

 _“Tell me that we belong together._  
_Dress it up with the trappings of love._  
_I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips,_  
_Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above._

 _I'll be your cryin' shoulder._  
_I'll be love suicide._  
_I'll be better when I'm older._  
_I'll be the greatest fan of your life.”_

It’s weirdly appropriate, especially since a lot of the time he feels like nobody gives a shit about him except for Sam and Cas.

“Lyrics purely accidental?” he asks quietly.

“But fitting,” Cas responds, his scent sweetening with how happy he is. “No one wants better things for you than I do. No one wants you to have all good things in your life as much as I do. I’ll be anything you need me to be for as long as you’ll have me.”

Thinking that no one could ever bring as much good to his life as Cas has him stealing words right from the song before he can think better of it. “You think we belong together, too?”

“I hope we do,” Cas replies. “I feel like we do, and I know without a doubt I will always love you, my little coffee bean.”

“I know we do,” he admits in a whisper, more sure about that than anything, and then he can’t resist lifting his nose to get closer to the warm scent of happiness streaming from his alpha’s neck. “I love you so much.” He breathes in deep, taking one final hit before he tilts his head up to meet Cas’s eyes. He doesn’t feel even the tiniest smidgen of fear or doubt or even nerves when he says, “Take me to bed, alpha.”

He thought Cas might hesitate or draw out their little prom recreation, but he was wrong, because Cas dips his head and takes Dean’s lips in such a powerful kiss he has to wrap his arms around Cas’s neck even tighter to stop himself from falling backwards. Cas’s arms are just as tight around him, simultaneously holding him up and plastering him against the firm line of his body.

Dean gives back as good as he gets, kissing Cas with unrestrained passion, fisting his hands in his hair and moaning into his mouth when Cas’s hands slip down to squeeze his ass. He grinds against him, eager for friction on his quickly hardening cock, and is rewarded with a soft groan from his alpha and an even deeper kiss. Next thing he knows, Cas is bending at the knees until their mouths are at the same height and Cas’s hands are continuing down the backs of his thighs. His breath comes out all in a whoosh when Cas lifts him straight off of the ground. His stomach swoops with excitement and arousal when he realizes just how strong and powerful his alpha really is, and then he’s locking his legs behind his back and baring his neck to be claimed.

Cas ravages his scent gland with a fervor he’s yet to experience and it draws a needy whine from his throat that only increases with the rough scrape of teeth. Fire races through his veins at the idea of his alpha claiming him with a mating bite, and before he can make an ass out of himself and beg him for it, he tightens his hold in Cas’s hair and yanks his head back for a kiss.

Cas indulges him, his hands settle onto his ass, and then he takes the first step towards his bed, making Dean’s first trickle of slick come with it. Anticipation of finally having Cas inside of him is like lightning in the air, striking his skin and electrifying his entire body with desire so heavy he’s almost trembling and they’ve barely even gotten started.

Cas is about to make love to him, to claim him as his own by being the first person ever inside of him, and as Dean’s laid gently onto Cas’s mattress with Edwin McCain repeating in his ears, he knows he will never be more confident about anything than he is about Cas loving him.

Castiel is struggling to rein in his inner alpha already and he’s barely even touched Dean. As he lays him in the bed much more carefully than the raging beast inside of him wants him to, he moves into the space between his open legs and covers Dean’s body with his own, trying to think about anything except for Dean submitting to him so perfectly with his neck bared and legs spread.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean,” Castiel whispers, needing to at least say sweet words if he can’t keep his body under control. “Baring yourself to me so flawlessly. Such a good, perfect omega.” Dean beams with pride as his lips find his scent gland, softer this time than the last, and he kisses the bruise that marks Dean as taken, as _his,_ as Dean’s hands push his suit jacket off of his shoulders. Getting each other undressed is a familiar dance at this point, and they both go through the motions of removing layer after layer of clothing quickly, but Castiel takes care to slow it down and kiss inch after inch of newly exposed skin. By the time they’re both down to boxers, Castiel is achingly hard and Dean has completely slicked through his boxers at the back.

Though he knows Dean is just as anxious to move things along as he is, he still wants to make sure Dean feels as loved and cherished as possible, so he kisses his way down his chest. He’s been over his torso with his mouth and hands dozens of times, but though it’s familiar, it’s still just as enticing as it was the first time. He travels his flawless freckled skin with gentle kisses down the ladder of his ribs, runs his tongue down the space between them until he swirls it around his navel where he feels Dean’s soft skin ripple with a huff of laughter that makes his heart sing. He lavishes the strip of skin above the elastic band of his boxers with dry brushes of his lips and gentle nips from his teeth until Dean is squirming, trying to wiggle himself up the mattress so Castiel’s mouth ends up between his legs where he so clearly wants him.

He has a smile on his face when he nuzzles against Dean’s cock over top of his boxers, letting his cheek rub against the swell of his erection as he inhales the sweetening scent of his omega’s slick. When Dean bucks up against his face, he flicks his eyes up to him and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. His palms skirt up Dean’s thighs as he chastises him, “So impatient, coffee bean.”

“Yeah well, my dick ain’t gonna suck itself, you know,” Dean says, but the breathlessness in his voice softens his words from a demand to a plea much more than he’s sure Dean intended.

Castiel chuckles darkly as he tugs Dean’s boxers off and tosses them away. “Good thing. Otherwise, what would you keep me around for?”

“How ‘bout you remind me?” Dean grins.

And just for that, Castiel oh so slowly lays himself down on top of Dean, carefully slotting Dean’s bare erection along his still covered by his boxers, before he seals his lips over Dean’s nipple. As usual, just that causes Dean’s chest to surge upwards, so Castiel closes his teeth around the hardening nub, pulling a desperate cry from his boyfriend. He works a hand up to finger and tweak his other nipple, and now a litany of quiet curses and low moans mingle with the music still streaming from his CD player. Castiel continues to bite and suck on Dean’s nipple until he feels fingers pull his hair, then he allows Dean to tug him up and towards his mouth.

“You’re such an asshole,” Dean complains, but his voice is already wrecked, and Castiel is so incredibly turned on by the sight of his omega flushed with his lips bitten red and his pupils blown to two dark pools reflecting the candle light he can’t respond with anything other than an urgent kiss. His tongue plunges into Dean’s open mouth, alternating between massaging their tongues together and pulling back to nip at Dean’s swollen plush lips. Only once Dean completely loses himself in their kiss - marked by the relaxing of his previously tense muscles and the way Dean’s hands begin wandering the firm planes of his back and shoulders - does he pull away and slither between his legs.

Dean’s panting now, and just watching his omega’s chest rising and falling with each short breath is almost as satisfying as the garbled sound of pleasure he makes when he takes the head of Dean’s leaking cock into his mouth. He eagerly licks at the tip, dragging his tongue slow and firm across the head to collect the salty sweet flavor of his precum, giving Dean extra pleasure by humming his approval of the pleasing taste. Knowing exactly what his omega likes, he then lowers the tight ring of his lips until he reaches the base of Dean’s cock, glancing up at him while he hollows his cheeks and begins to suck. Dean’s pushed himself up to his elbows to watch as he always does, and so Castiel puts on a show of bobbing his head up and down, applying strong suction on the way up, flicking his tongue over his frenulum and swirling it around his cockhead, all while maintaining eye contact and keeping his lips sealed tight to his velvety smooth skin.

Once he only has his crown between his lips, he circles it with his tongue and watches as Dean’s head drops down between his shoulder blades before Castiel sinks back down on his length and takes the entirety of him into his mouth. When Dean begins gasping for breath, his fingers tightening on the bed sheets on either side of him, Castiel understands it as the silent warning that it is, and in a single breath, lets Dean’s cock fall from his lips as he gets his hands on his hips and pushes his ass upwards. Folding Dean almost in half, Dean grapples for only a moment until he gets his hands under his own knees and gives Castiel the advantage of free hands to expose his omega’s round ass cheeks glistening with slick.

He praises Dean’s quick thinking and willingness to please him with a quiet, “So good for me, Dean.” He licks a stripe along his taint, drawing in the sweet scent of his slick and immediately losing the strength to tease him any longer. He parts the two glorious globes of his firm ass and feels his cock pulse at the sight of Dean’s virgin hole positively leaking slick for him.

He can’t possibly wait another second before he cleans up the surrounding area with broad swipes of his tongue. This is the singular best tasting substance in the world, and Castiel makes it his mission to worship every new trickle that he urges from Dean’s insides while simultaneously working his tongue the way he knows Dean likes it. Dean gets particularly breathless when he seals his mouth over his opening, moaning wantonly when his tongue _just_ breaches him, so Castiel continues his ministrations. He circles his hole slowly at first, gradually picking up his pace until Dean’s breaths are coming hard and heavy, and only then does he spear inside of him with his tongue pointed and rigid.

Dean calls out, and within seconds, he’s grinding his ass into Castiel’s face rhythmically, riding his tongue as efficiently and sinfully as any pornography he’s ever seen, only ten million times hotter because he smells so unfathomably good and tastes even better. As always, watching Dean lose himself in his pleasure, watching him _take_ so selfishly when Dean is never ever selfish outside of bed fills him with a heavy mix of pride and awe in both his omega and his own skilled tongue.

“Cas, Cas, Cas, fuck,” Dean chants, and _oh,_ he will never ever tire of hearing Dean repeating his name as he climbs to his climax. Castiel takes a deep breath and then dives in even further, burying his face in his ass, forcing his cheeks between Dean’s and using his lips and tongue to help him skyrocket to the finish line, feeling Dean’s ass cheeks and inner walls clenching around him as he spills all over his own chest. He pulls away gasping for air and gently guides Dean’s legs down so he can work at cleaning up the mess he just made.

Though Dean’s slick is as sweet as the brown sugar is smells like, his semen is much saltier, but it’s still his second favorite thing to feast on seeing as it’s the proof of how much pleasure he brought his omega. It gets even more arousing when he drags his tongue through a streak of white and looks up to see Dean is already waiting with his mouth open. It’s Castiel’s turn to moan unabashedly, tempted beyond comprehension at the offering. His lips, still wet with Dean’s slick, press against Dean’s for the briefest moment before Dean’s tongue slides into his mouth. Castiel pushes his against it, and they’re officially sharing Dean’s cum between them with each pass of their tongues. Dean sucks on the tip of his tongue and a growl rumbles low in Castiel’s chest, this dirty habit they somehow fell into so filthy that it feels like his skin catches fire each and every time they indulge.

He tongue feeds Dean his own cum with kiss after kiss until several long minutes later when Dean’s as cleaned up as Castiel’s mouth can get him, and then he guides Dean’s leg up around his waist so he can slip two fingers into him as they continue kissing. The wet heat that engulfs them is a pointed reminder that his dick is about to be in there for the first time, and he has to break away from Dean’s lips prematurely to bury his face against Dean’s throat to swallow down another possessive growl. He kisses the freckled skin on Dean’s shoulder, his collarbone, and the shallow dip of his clavicle before he returns to his scent gland where he kisses his bruise tenderly. He finds his calm there, in the spot where he and Dean’s scents are layered so infinitely the only thing he can possibly think is _mate_ and _home,_ and then he’s kissing Dean’s puffy lips soundly again and again, murmuring, “I love you. I love you, Dean. My omega. I love you so much,” between each kiss as thoughts of the two of them together forever as mates race through his mind unbidden.

Two fingers turn to three and then four, and by the time they’re both completely covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Dean is as stretched out as he’s ever been, he breaks their kiss and asks with his breath ragged, “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.” Dean nods vigorously, his scent still steady with arousal and his eyes sparking with mischief. “Get in me already.”

Castiel smiles, strangely proud that Dean is still on board and as eager as he feels, and he finally discards his boxers, wiping his slippery hands off on them before he reaches into his nightstand for a condom. He sits on his knees while he tears open the foil package and rolls the condom down his length, making sure to leave plenty of space at the tip, and feeling Dean’s eyes burning on his skin the whole time.

“You’re uh, weirdly good at that,” Dean says nervously. “You sure you’re a virgin?”

“I’m sure,” Castiel replies, tossing the package on the floor.

“What’d you do, practice or something?” Dean teases. To his horror, his face burns and his scent sours, and Dean starts laughing. “You did, didn’t you? Oh my god, you practiced putting condoms on!”

Now thoroughly embarrassed, he replies, “I thought fumbling through it might ruin the mood, but since your idea of a good first time apparently includes laughing at me like the mouthy little omega you are, I guess I shouldn’t have bothered.”

His voice doesn’t quite reach the teasing tone he was going for, so he isn’t surprised when Dean pulls himself up and gets on his knees in front of him to catch his lips in a quick, apologetic kiss. “Sorry, Cas. Didn’t mean to laugh at you.” Castiel shrugs it off and kisses him again instead, letting the familiar give and take of their lips soothe his now raw nerves. Finally, Dean breaks their kiss and says, “Let me make it up to you.”

“I already forgive you, little bean,” Castiel tells him.

But all Dean does is wiggle his eyebrows, and then Castiel’s jaw becomes unhinged when Dean turns over and gets on his hands and knees. Castiel’s mouth goes dry at the same time his cock pulses almost painfully, and his alpha instincts roar in triumph as he takes in the sight of his omega presenting for him for the first time.

“I’ve been practicing, too,” Dean admits. “How do I look, alpha?”

Dean is perfect. Absolutely, jaw-droppingly flawless, with his tiny but curvaceous hips, beautiful bow legs spread wide with his cock hanging heavily between them, ass round and full, his hole already gaping and glistening with slick, the subtle arch of his back flickering with shadows from the candlelight, and his head bowed slightly with his head tilted to the side, exposing his scent gland with Castiel’s mark already in place.

He thought he knew what is was to want, but any desire he’s ever felt leading up to this is barely even a shadow of what he’s experiencing in this moment. His inner alpha is screaming at him to breed his omega, to sheath himself inside of his waiting hole in one fast and furious thrust and to sink his teeth into his scent gland - his _mating_ gland - and make Dean his forever.

Instead, his fingernails dig into his palms as he grapples for control. “You are -” But then he fumbles, because what words can he possibly use to tell Dean how beautiful he is? “There are no words, Dean. My beautiful omega. You’re absolutely stunning, breathtaking, awe-inspiring. I have never and will never see anything so perfect as you as long as I live.” His hands sneak out without his permission, settling onto Dean’s hips and skirting up his sides as he’s pulled to him like a magnet. He knee walks between Dean’s legs, urging them to spread wider as he settles himself between them, placing a trail of chaste kisses up his back. He whispers, “The love I have for you, Dean…” Then he pauses as his eyes fill and he swallows down the sudden surge of emotion. “It’s eternal. It’s forever. It’s for always. I am yours, my omega.” He curves himself over Dean’s back, trying to remember to breathe steadily as his cock slides along Dean’s crack until his pelvis is flush with his ass, and he satisfies his inner alpha by nibbling on the mark on his scent gland. “I love you so. Thank you for sharing this with me. For sharing all of you with me.”

Dean turns his head to meet his lips for a lingering, uncoordinated kiss that moves him to his very soul, only breaking away to say, “I love you, alpha. Make me yours.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re in pain,” Castiel implores him. “Any pain at all at any point, and I will stop. You change your mind, you even _think_ about changing your mind and I’ll stop. Okay?”

“I’m not gonna change my mind. I want you, want it to be you. Please, alpha.” He licks those plush lips and meets Castiel’s eyes to say, “Make love to me.”

With one final kiss to Dean’s lips, he reverses his hips and takes his cock into his shaking hand, looking down to line himself up with Dean’s opening. His cockhead presses against it snugly and he inhales a sharp breath, already overwhelmed with how warm and slick it feels.

“Are you entirely sure you want this?” he asks one more time.

“I’m sure,” Dean replies, his voice realms more steady than Castiel’s. “I want you.” Then Dean groans, a sound full of desperation he’s heard a hundred times, and admits, “I’m dying for it, Cas, seriously. Fill me up, alpha. Wanna feel you inside of me.”

He drops his forehead to the back of Dean’s neck, and with another kiss to his skin, he pushes forwards slowly and begins to enter his omega. He barely even has the tip of his head inside, and already, his eyelids are screwed tightly closed and his body is held rigid with tension as unbelievable pleasure overcomes him.

“God you’re tight,” he blurts, and Dean’s shoulders shake with an uncomfortable sounding huff of laughter. “You okay so far?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers, but his voice is strained, and so Castiel does the last fucking thing he wants to do and stops. Dean lets out a deep breath and Castiel kisses his skin once more to try to soothe them both. “It’s uh - it’s a lot, you know. We’re - we’re actually connected now, like one person,” he whispers, and Castiel feels tears threatening behind his eyes again. “And you feel fucking huge and it’s nothing like fingers, but I - I’m good now. You can keep going.”

Dean must be able to feel the tremors running through his body from the force it’s taking to hold himself back. “Are you sure? We can stretch you more?”

“No, I’m good. I’ll stretch. Made for this, right?” he jokes. “I just needed a sec, but I swear I’m good now. Keep goin’, alpha. Still want you.”

He wishes he had the willpower to insist on opening him up further, but the truth is he doesn’t, and so he slowly inches forward through the impossibly narrow heat until all of the sudden the resistance is basically gone and he sinks into the hilt in one final smooth thrust.

“Holy shit,” Castiel gasps. “You feel incredible. Jesus, Dean. I’ve never - nothing has ever - you feel incredible,” he repeats as he waits for Dean to get used to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” And this time he’s relieved to hear he actually sounds okay. “Beginning was the worst part. Feel damn good now. Full but... right and really fucking good.” Castiel pats down his flank as he stretches up to scent him, feeling Dean clench around him as he drags his nose along his scent gland. “Yours,” Dean whispers, and the admission coupled with being actually inside of him is almost his undoing.

His fingers tighten where they stopped on Dean’s hip, and he tries to satisfy the urge to bite down on his mating gland by sucking on it instead, seeing his darkening bruise in his mind’s eye as he works Dean’s swollen skin over with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

The seal of his mouth is broken when Dean rocks back slightly, because the wet friction steals his breath entirely. “Dean,” Castiel groans, kissing his neck again.

“Move, Cas,” Dean answers, and Castiel couldn’t refuse him even if he wanted to.

He pulls out a fraction and pushes back in, withdrawing a little bit more with each gentle thrust, losing himself in the exquisite feeling of his omega so slick and warm and tight. His gaze is drawn down to where he’s plunging in and out of Dean, his eyes stuck on where he disappears inside of him again and again, Dean’s slick shining and easing the way with every stroke. It’s only seconds of watching Dean’s slight frame taking his thick alpha cock with ease before he feels the familiar build of heat in his stomach, and knowing he needs to last much longer than this to give Dean any kind of pleasure, he stops and tries to catch his breath. Unfortunately, Dean doesn’t know what he’s trying to do, and he continues to rock his hips and take Castiel’s cock inside of him over and over while Castiel bites down on his bottom lip and struggles to think of non-sexual things to stop his knot from popping right here and now.

He finally has to still Dean’s hips with his hands and pull out completely before he comes way too early, and Dean huffs with annoyance. “What the hell are you doing?” he complains. “I was kinda enjoying that, you know.”

“I’m trying not to come in the first two minutes like an over eager teenager,” Castiel admits. Then as an idea strikes him, he says, “Why don’t you lie on your back so I can see you instead of your ass?”

Dean’s smirking when he rolls over. “My ass too hot for you, alpha?”

“You have absolutely no idea how sexy your ass is,” Castiel says honestly, lying down on top of him to nip at his lips. “Watching you take me so easily, your ass slick and eager, like you’re made to fit me inside of you is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck,” Dean whispers needily, smashing their lips together and dragging him into a deep, passionate kiss, writhing beneath him the whole time until he wrenches his mouth away and begs, “Fuck me again. Want you. Wanna feel you, Cas.”

He’s still unbearably turned on. “I’m never going to last.”

“So?” Dean challenges. “You think I’m not gonna be able to get you hard again so we can have a do-over?”

“I have no doubts over your ability to arouse me,” Castiel says honestly. “I just want to make sure you enjoy your first time.”

“Then I suggest you get back in me and don’t stop until I come.”

Desire wracks him and he groans into another kiss. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Just don’t die ‘til I come,” Dean says with a grin. Then he spreads his legs in a blatant invitation and Castiel lines himself up and sinks back inside in one effortlessly fluid movement that has them both making matching sounds of pleasure. “Fuck that’s good,” Dean gasps, and Castiel feels his words set fire to his skin. “Never gonna get enough of this, of you.”

He sets a slow but steady pace, watching Dean’s face closely for every twitch, for every hint of what he likes, quickly discovering the deeper he thrusts the better it must feel. His knot is already swelling, and each time it meets Dean’s slick opening he has to fight the urge to push it inside, knowing the moment he feels Dean so hot and tight around him it will all be over.

“Up,” Dean pants, bringing his attention back to him. “Thrust up, just a little -”

But Cas was already changing the angle of his hips and thrusting up towards Dean’s stomach after his first request, and he must connect with his prostate because Dean suddenly loses the ability to speak, and instead, he lets out a strangled sound that has lava racing through him. His knot is really swelling now, grinding against Dean’s hole every time he rocks forward. Dean throws his head back, baring his throat once again and Castiel closes his eyes to stop the flood of temptation he’s drowning in, losing his rhythm in the process.

“Fuck, don’t stop _now,”_ Dean chokes out, and immediately, Castiel’s eyes reopen as he plunges into him again. He’s _barely_ keeping it together, cursing himself for thinking that looking at Dean’s gorgeous face lost in the throes of pleasure would be any less sexy than his ass. Dean makes the most delicious little sounds each time he thrusts into him, the slick squelch of his cock sliding into Dean’s dripping hole is filthy but satisfying, and his head is spinning with the buttery scent of his arousal merging with Dean’s sugary sweet brown sugar. All of his senses are filled with the evidence of coupling with Dean, with Dean himself, with _mate, home, mine._

“Dean, I’m close,” he whispers as everything comes to a sudden peak. “You feel too good, I can’t keep -”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop again,” Dean warns him. “I - I want your knot, alpha.”

 _“Fuck,”_ he curses, the heat low in his stomach really beginning to simmer now. “Are you sure?”

“Fuck yes,” Dean nods. “Knot me. Please, alpha. Knot me.”

He lets go of the restraint he was clinging to so tightly, and the very first time he feels his knot slip past his tight rim, a long, rumbling growl thunders in his chest.

“Alpha,” Dean gasps, only egging on his inner beast. “Please alpha.”

This is nothing like his rut toys. The way he can feel Dean’s warm rim stretching around his swelling knot with each thrust as he pushes past it is unique and exhilarating, and it’s only three shallow strokes before he feels it start to catch.

“Oh fuck. Fuck that’s big. So good, Cas.” Dean’s gripping his shoulders so firmly he can feel his fingernails bite into his skin. “Harder, harder, harder.”

Castiel clenches his teeth together and maintains his steady pace, refusing to do anything that might hurt his omega even if he’s asking for it and his inner alpha is _screaming_ at him to fuck his brains out. His patience is rewarded because his knot pops on the very next thrust, and then all he knows is inconceivable pleasure. Scorchingly hot heat flushes on his skin from his groin up his chest, neck and to his cheeks as his entire body goes rigid. He feels Dean clench around him like a vice when he spills his load inside of his omega with a hoarse shout, his alpha instincts clawing at him to finish his claim by biting his mate as he fills him up with his seed.

The salty sweet scent of Dean’s semen floods his nostrils and he looks down between them to see Dean coming on his knot completely untouched just like the perfect omega he is, and then his mouth is hot and open on Dean’s mating gland in an instant.

“Do it,” Dean gasps. “Do it. Bite me. Mate me, alpha. _Please,”_ he begs. “I love you. I love you, so much Cas.”

“I love you,” Cas answers, moving his mouth along his throbbing, sugary-sweet smelling gland to find the perfect spot to sink his teeth into. _Mine, mine, mine._ “My perfect omega. My perfect mate. I’ll make you mine, sweetheart,” he promises as his cock continues to pump his omega full with his seed, breeding him just like he’s meant to. His mouth fills with saliva, preparing to ease his canines through his omega’s flesh. _Claim, claim, claim._

“God, I wish - it’s fucked up - but I wish I could feel you coming inside of me,” Dean whispers and Castiel wrenches his lips away from his neck with a jolt, his eyes wide with fear as he comes back to himself. Dean can’t feel it because _he’s wearing a condom_ because _Dean’s_ _seventeen_ and Castiel can’t breed him _or_ claim him just yet.

“Jesus Christ I almost bit you,” Castiel gasps, horrified by how close he was. He drops his forehead to rest on Dean’s, closing his eyes and still trying to rein in his inner alpha. “I’m sorry, coffee bean.”

“Like I would’ve complained,” Dean says quietly, his hand finally moving from Castiel’s shoulder to pet through his hair. Castiel hums into his touch, trying to catch his breath. It’s several long minutes of soft kisses and repeated declarations of love while Castiel tries to get used to the feeling of having his knot intermittently stimulated by Dean’s every movement until eventually, the two of them awkwardly attempt to roll over still connected so that Dean can rest on Castiel’s chest.

After two unsuccessful attempts that has them both red faced and laughing through their embarrassment, they figure it out, and now it’s Dean’s turn to nuzzle into Castiel’s scent gland while Castiel strokes his back.

“I wanna be your mate,” Dean whispers suddenly, completely taking his breath away with his vulnerability.

“You are,” Castiel promises, tears springing to his eyes as his heart swells beyond comprehension. “You’re it for me.”

“Why didn’t you bite me then?” Dean asks quietly. “I knew you were gonna. Your eyes were all alpha red for the first time since the rink, and I was gonna let you.” He’s sure Dean can smell the way his scent burns hotter than ever. “I knew I was yours from the first time we met. Wanna make it real. Make it official. Make it forever, unbreakable.”

“Not when you’re this young,” Castiel says gently. “I will bite you, Dean. I swear I’m not saying no. Just not right now.”

“When?” Dean presses.

“I don’t know,” Castiel says truthfully. “But I know you’re my mate, and regardless if it’s a year from now or in five years on the day we buy our first home together on Crystal Lake, it will always be you and only you for me, Dean. I promise you.”

“No fucking way I’m waiting five years,” Dean replies, and Castiel chuckles lightly at his mouthy omega. “But I’ll wait, I guess. Probably gotta wait ‘til I’m 18 anyway, so that way when my dad disowns me I can take Sam with us and he won’t get stuck in foster care.”

“Then I suppose we’ll revisit this when you’re 18, if I can manage to keep my teeth to myself until then,” Castiel says honestly.

“Kinda hot knowing how bad you wanted to,” Dean admits.

“I was lost to my inner alpha,” Castiel confesses. “All I could think about was claiming you, breeding you.” Dean whimpers and clamps down on his knot again, making his next words coming out on a ragged breath as he tries to talk through another orgasm. “Was - was honestly only s-seconds away, just trying to find the perfect spot.”

“Wish you did,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel kisses the top of his head. “Being with you, being inside of you, tied to you like I am now... nothing has ever felt so right, Dean. I’m glad I waited for you.”

“Nobody gets this fat knot but me,” Dean declares, rocking back against him and dragging a groan from his lips which makes Dean laugh at him. “How long ‘til it goes down anyway?”

“I have no idea, seeing as this is my first time. A half hour or so if I had to wager a guess based on my ruts.” He lets his drooping eyelids fall closed as he rests his nose in Dean’s hair, drawing in the scent of coffee sweetened with heaps of brown sugar.

Dean expels a long breath of air. “Guess I might as well get comfortable then, eh?”

“Are you sore at all?” Castiel wonders.

“Nah, not now. Might be later, but you were a good alpha, Cas. Took good care of me.”

The praise fills him with pride, soothing the wild beast still barely contained inside of him. “I hope it was everything you were hoping for.”

“Was kinda hoping it would last longer than five minutes,” Dean quips, prompting Castiel to pinch his hip. “But other than that it was awesome.”

“Need I remind you that you also only lasted five minutes before you came untouched on my knot like the perfect little omega of every alpha’s wet dreams?”

Dean chuckles. “No, not forgetting that anytime soon. Your fingers are never gonna cut it anymore.”

“Considering I’m already desperate to knot you again and my first hasn’t even gone down yet, I think I’ll find a way to cope,” he says, his words getting stuck on a yawn at the end.

“Those five minutes really tired you out, huh?” Dean teases.

“Shhh,” Castiel responds, wrapping his arms around him more securely. “Napping.”

“Old man,” Dean says lovingly, rearranging himself until he’s comfortable with his nose resting snugly against his throat. Despite his complaining, Dean is the one who drifts off into sleep first, and Castiel follows only minutes later, comfortable and sated with Dean’s weight on top of him and a soft smile still curving his lips as he joins his omega in sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**_2007_ **

Summer is _awesome._ Sammy gets himself a paper route and Dean lands himself a part-time job at Burger World cleaning tables and doing dishes. For the first time in his life, between the two of them, they actually have enough food in the house _and_ he has actual spending money. Not to mention that with Cas also only working part time, there are stretches of time when they’re able to spend literal days together without leaving the other’s side.

The only thing weighing on him is that his dad didn’t send enough for rent for July, so he and Sam had to scramble to come up with it. Thankfully they managed, but he’s been calling and texting his dad for more than a week now and he still hasn’t heard anything back. Sam reminds him it’s not like this is the first time he’s missed sending the money on time, and at least this time they managed to pay it without getting a nasty letter from the landlord, and that does help to ease his worries a little bit.

Besides, he’s having the best damn summer of his life, so it’s almost impossible to be anything other than stupidly happy. He and Cas spend every single night sleeping together, either at Cas’s house or the apartment. They have sex as often as they can, sometimes two or three times a day, and it’s always amazing and never _ever_ enough.

They spend afternoons at the lake, swimming, building elaborate sand castles, and making out on their towels when Sam and Gabe do cannon balls off of the dock. They eat ice cream and popsicles and freezies, have actual fucking picnics, and Cas, the rich fucker, takes them all out on the family speedboat whenever he can. They tie an inflatable tube to the back of the boat and take turns tubing, swimming in the middle of the lake, and exploring all of the tiny islands they find. They go camping on Canada Day weekend where they set off fireworks, roast marshmallows, and Cas makes love to him under the stars after Gabe and Sam fall asleep. He’s happier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

It’s only a few weeks after that when his heat starts sneaking up on them, and though they both know what it means this time when Cas notices the increased cinnamon in his scent, they’re no less prepared for the onslaught of his actual heat than the last time.

It’s intense. When he thought it would be easier to deal with because of Cas’s knot, it really isn’t. Cas explains it’s because it’s an alpha’s semen that really eases the ache and he absolutely refuses to be with Dean without a condom, so though he has more sex than he ever has in his life (especially after discovering that Cas popping his knot doesn’t mean Dean can’t still ride him until _he’s_ satisfied) it isn’t everything he knows it can be. Not that he’s complaining, exactly. Having Cas inside of him, over him, behind him, next to him, _with him_ is a million times better than screaming for him. And of course, Cas is the very picture of an attentive mate: spoon feeding him when they’re knotted together, carrying him into the shower to clean him up, forcing water into him between each mind-blowing fuck, and telling him he loves him even when he’s covered in sweat, slick, and cum and cursing him for not fucking him without a condom.

Cas is a saint, to be honest.

It’s the tail-end of his heat now, and he’s lucid enough to know how truly amazing Cas has been for the last three days, so he’s thanking him by milking as many orgasms as he can get out of him. He’s currently working on coaxing out number four, straddling him in reverse cowboy and opening up his alpha’s tight ass with his own slick and fingers. He’s up to two, and he knows all it’s going to take to get him to come again is to brush that tiny little spot nestled deep inside while he pulls up on his knot, but his big, strong alpha is begging so beautifully he almost doesn’t want to give it to him.

“Dean! God, Dean. More, please. Oh Christ, keep going,” Cas gasps.

His cock is rock fucking hard and he’s cursing Castiel’s knot even as he rides it because if he could get free right now he could be pounding into his alpha to give him what he really wants, but they’re tied together so he can’t.

“Soon as my heat’s over, I’m gonna fuck you so good, Cas,” Dean promises. “Nice and hard like you like it, and as soon as you come, I’m gonna sink right down on your knot and milk you for one more.” He punctuates his final words with a rub to his prostate, and Cas jerks inside of him as he comes again with a strangled cry. He uses his slicked up hand to jack himself as Cas’s knot pulses, stimulating his sensitive rim, and it’s only a handful of strokes before the combination of the fat knot and his hand has him coming again.

He feels the heat seep out of him with his orgasm, and so when he turns himself around and Cas holds his arms out, signalling he’s ready to scent him and cuddle like they always do before they pass out, he goes willingly and lets Cas catch his mouth with a sloppy and exhausted kiss.

“You’re so good, Dean,” Cas praises him between kisses, combing his fingers through his short hair. “Such a good omega. I love you so much.”

“You give?” Dean checks.

“I’m afraid if I come again I might actually die,” Cas confesses, and Dean grins with satisfaction as he curls up on his alpha’s chest.

“Killing you wouldn’t be a very good thank you.”

Cas snorts with laughter. “You don’t have to thank me for taking care of you, least of all during your heat. Believe it or not, it’s not a huge chore to knot you non-stop for three days.”

“And here I thought you were just a selfless, good-hearted alpha sacrificing his over-used knot for the good of his omega.”

“Well, I suppose if four orgasms is the thanks I get then just forget I said anything.” But Cas tilts Dean’s head up until Cas can turn his and drop his nose onto Dean’s mottled scent gland. “I already miss how cinnamony you smelled at the beginning,” he says quietly.

Dean smiles happily. “‘nother three months and you can smell it again if I stay on schedule.”

“And the heat after that will be close enough to my rut that you’ll likely trigger it,” Cas tells him.

“We’ll kill each other,” Dean realizes.

“What a way to go though,” Cas quips, and Dean chuckles and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Love you, alpha.”

Cas kisses his scent gland, tightening his arms around him, and replies, “Love you, too, my omega. Always.”

“Always,” Dean promises, his heart so full he can hardly stand it even after all this time. With his body exhausted and his heat sated for now, he falls asleep to the comforting and familiar beat of his alpha’s heartbeat under his ear.

An hour later he wakes up no longer tied to Cas, with sore knees because of the way he fell asleep, and his phone vibrating on Cas’s nightstand. Because he knows everybody close to him knows he’s in heat and unavailable, he reaches for it with a frown and sees it’s Sam.

 **SAM:** Funkytown  
**DEAN:** Dad?

He waits a few seconds with his heart in his throat, but gets no response, and that’s enough to have him throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and grabbing his keys. He thinks briefly about waking up Cas, but he knows if it is his dad that will only lead to trouble for his alpha, especially since Dean still smells like sex and heat. He climbs onto the bed and brushes a hand through Cas’s hair.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean whispers. Cas’s eyes flutter open just enough to reveal a sliver of a breathtaking blue he’ll never get used to. “Gotta run home for a sec but I’ll call you to come over in a bit, okay?”

“I could go with you,” Cas says sleepily, pressing into the touch of Dean’s hand still in his hair.

Dean’s heart swells. “It’s okay, I won’t be long.” He bends to press a soft kiss to his alpha’s lips. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Cas says back, and then Dean’s taking off at a jog through Cas’s giant house towards the garage where he slides into his Baby and makes the quick drive home.

He sniffs as he hurries through the hallway but doesn’t catch a whiff of his dad. Sam still hasn’t answered him back, so he’s worried and braced for the worst, but still completely unprepared for what he finds when he opens the front door.

Sam’s standing in the kitchen looking scared out of his mind, and with one glance around his house he gets why. There’s a police officer and four people he doesn’t recognize throwing all of their stuff into boxes. He can see into the open door of his bedroom that his bed’s been stripped, his dresser is emptied of clothes, and he doesn’t even know who the fuck these people are but they need to get out of his damn house _now._

“What the hell’s going on?” Dean asks the room in general.

A mean looking bald guy with wisps of grey hair on the sides of his head looks up from the box he’s currently packing. “Dean?”

“Who’s asking?” Dean returns.

“Been a long time,” the man says, approaching him with a hand out. Dean can tell by the peppery scent that greets him that he’s an alpha. “Samuel Campbell, your grandpa.”

Some of the wariness disappears, and Dean shakes his hand with a nod. “Oh, yeah. Guess I didn’t recognize you,” he says, trying to think back to the last time he actually saw him. “What’s going on with the cop, and why’re you taking all our stuff? If it’s the rent, I paid -”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this son, but your dad was in a car accident in Quebec and he didn’t make it,” Samuel says. Dean flinches as he looks to the cop for confirmation, which he gets in the form of a grim nod. Before he can even process the fact that his dad is gone, Samuel says, “Since we’re the only family you got left, you’re going to have to come stay with us.”

“What?” Dean asks, his throat raw. “No. We live _here.”_

“You can’t live on your own legally until you’re eighteen,” the police officer says.

That doesn’t mean they have to leave. Without even considering that Cas wouldn’t, he offers him up quickly. “My boyfriend - he’s almost 23 - we can stay with him.”

“23’s way too old for you,” Samuel says, and Dean glares at him while the police officer looks at him questioningly.

“Your boyfriend is 22?”

“Yeah, so?” Dean says defensively.

The police officer shares a look with Samuel that he can’t decipher but doesn’t ease the fear in his stomach at all, and then keeps talking. “Custody automatically goes to the closest living relative if there’s no will, which there wasn’t. The Campbells here were nice enough to take custody of you, otherwise you’d end up in foster care, and unfortunately there’s no guarantee you and your brother would stay together in that case.”

The fear of being separated from Sam supersedes everything else, but he still shakes his head. “I got a scholarship to the local college. I’ve got a boyfriend and a job, Sam actually has _friends_ and he’s the starting center on the hockey team. You can’t just - you can’t just take us away from all that!”

“I’m real sorry about that, Dean, and I told Sam, too, but I have a home and a job and a family back in Kansas, and unfortunately, we can’t just upend everything to move to another country,” Samuel says.

Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries to flip it open with shaking fingers. Cas won’t let these people take them away. There’s no fucking way. He’s not going and Cas is going to make sure he doesn’t have to. He and Sam can stay here.

“I’m gonna need you to hand that over,” Samuel tells him. Dean huffs out a sarcastic laugh, but otherwise ignores him while he presses the menu button to get to his contacts. “Now,” Samuel barks at him. Dean looks up in time to see both Samuel and the police officer approaching him fast.

“Back off,” Dean says. “This is my phone.”

“They already took mine,” Sam whispers, and Dean realizes that’s why Sam didn’t text him back.

“There’s no need for you to have your own phone now that you’ll be living with me, so hand it over right now,” Samuel says firmly, his suffocating peppery scent making Dean frown even more than his shady behavior.

He’d _like_ to tell him to go fuck himself, but since the police officer is watching him, he doesn’t. “I just gotta call my boyfriend, okay?”

“No,” Samuel says, stepping even closer. “I’m your guardian and your alpha now and I’m not putting up with another alpha in a rage just because you called him and told him you’re leaving.”

“You _are not_ my alpha,” Dean growls. _“Castiel_ isn’t just _some alpha,_ and who I mate with ain’t exactly your choice anyway, so back off,” Dean says again. Then he looks at the police officer. “I don’t have to give this to him, right?”

He shrugs. “Technically he is your guardian and the one who will be responsible for paying the bill, so...” Dean’s scent spikes with his anger, and he’s sure they can smell it but they sure don’t seem like they care.

“You can give it to me now and I’ll give it back when we stop for the night, or I take it from you and you never see it again,” Samuel bargains.

He hasn’t even been in front of this douchebag for five fucking minutes and he’s already trying to control him, so yeah, he doesn’t believe a damn word he’s saying about giving him his phone back later. Making his decision, he turns his back and hits the OKAY button to call Cas. Before it even dials, strong fingers curl like a vice around his wrist and his phone is ripped from his hand and snapped in half in a single second.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dean shouts, breaking out of his hold. “I _bought that,_ you can’t break it!”

“Maybe next time you’ll listen,” Samuel says coldly. “Let’s go get in the car.”

“The fuck I will,” Dean argues, whirling on the police officer and holding out his wrist now ringed in red. “Did you see that? He twisted my wrist.”

The police officer averts his eyes and says, “If I did see that, then you’re going to foster care.”

“Dean,” Sam says quietly. “I don’t wanna go either, but foster care?” he asks, his eyes wide and scared.

Dean swallows down his fear and anger and drops his hand. “It’s nothing.” Then he looks back at Samuel. “I’ll get in the car but you need to let me call Cas first. I can’t - I can’t just leave him without saying goodbye,” he says, his scent quickly turning bitter with a tang of blueberry still stuck to it that makes his heart ache. _Cas._

“This isn’t a democracy,” Samuel answers. “The sooner you figure that out, the easier the next six months of your life will be before you can come back here.”

Tears are gathering in his eyes, the idea of leaving Cas without a word absolutely tearing him to shreds. “Please, just let me call him for ten seconds, okay? I swear I’ll go with you without a fight and sit quietly the whole way wherever the fuck we’re going, but I - _I can’t_ leave him without an explanation. I’m - I’m literally begging you. _Please.”_

“Kids who don’t listen to the rules don’t get rewards. The answer is no.”

Before he can argue further, Sam surprises him by wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight hug. Confused but not wanting to leave him hanging, he hugs him back, and that’s when Sam whispers, “As soon as we stop you can call him from a pay phone.”

He swallows hard and gives him a pat on the back as a response, then when Sam pulls away, he nods to Samuel.

Samuel claps his hands together and leads the way out to the Impala. “Keys?” he asks Dean, and Dean has to literally bite down on his tongue when he hands them over. Then he and Sam climb into the backseat of the car while Samuel talks some more to the police officer. He knocks on the window, so Dean rolls it down. “What’s your boyfriend’s name, son? The police officer here says he’ll stop by and let him know what happened if you want.”

Dean feels relief run through him like a hot drink on a cold day. “Castiel Milton. Please - please tell him I’ll call him as soon as I can. That I love him and I’m coming back for him.”

The police officer looks at Samuel, nods, and then Dean rolls the window back up. It feels a little bit better to know Cas will at least know what happened to him, but he still doesn’t feel the least bit sorry when his bitter, burnt coffee scent floods the car the entire drive. It only gets worse and worse the further they drive without stopping, and he’s so distraught by leaving Cas without a proper goodbye as they hit hour five on the road without stopping that he isn’t even ashamed of the tears that stream down his face or the sobs that wrack his entire body.

He feels like he’s being torn in half, his heart and soul back in South River and his body riddled with pain stuck in the damn car. Every time he thinks about Cas being worried and scared and missing him the way he already misses Cas, his heart aches so much he can’t even breathe, and when he finally passes out curled into a ball pressed up against the window, it’s only a relief because he actually can’t withstand another moment of agonizing pain.

He wakes when Sam shakes him into consciousness. “Finally allowed a bathroom break,” Sam tells him, and the look in his eyes is his reminder that he should use this opportunity to try to find a pay phone.

“I gotta gas up and empty my bladder, so you two have a few minutes.” He hands them a ten dollar bill. “Get some snacks for the road if you want, I plan on driving again until my eyes won’t stay open if you’re hungry or not.”

“Gee thanks,” Sam says sarcastically, snatching the money and leading Dean away from him and into the store. Sam makes a beeline for the kid behind the counter, probably the same age as Dean if he’s guessing right, and says, “Excuse me, do you have a payphone here?”

“No, but you can just use the store phone if you need to make a call,” the kid says, offering the store’s landline.

“Awesome,” Dean replies, smiling for the first time in what feels like days when he thinks about getting to talk to Cas. He lifts the receiver and holds it to his ear, but as his fingers reach to dial, his face falls and his scent turns so bitter the kid behind the counter starts coughing.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks him.

“I don’t know his phone number,” Dean realizes.

“You talk to him all the time!” Sam says.

“Yeah, but I just use his contact. Press _Cas_ and it dials. I haven’t dialed his actual phone number since I programmed it into my phone.” The phone that’s now broken in half.

Sam nods as he gets it. “Yeah, I guess I don’t know Gabe’s either,” he says sadly.

Dean looks at the kid behind the counter with new hope as an idea comes to him. “Do you have the internet here? Or a phone book for South River?”

He shakes his head. “We’re not allowed to use the internet and I only have the local phone book.”

“Fuck,” Dean curses, slamming the receiver down.

“Sorry,” Sam says for him to the guy behind the counter, grabbing Dean by the sleeve and dragging him away. “What if we write a postcard real quick?” Sam says.

Dean shakes his head in defeat. “I don’t know his fucking postal code.”

“Shit,” Sam swears.

“How am I ever gonna get ahold of him?” Dean asks, already so heartbroken that he doesn’t even care about the fresh tears falling.

Sam pats his back and says, “When we get to Kansas or where ever we’re going, we can use the internet and look up his postal code and see if his number’s listed. I know it’s not right away, and I know it sucks to leave him behind, but Cas loves you. He’ll understand. He’ll wait.” Dean nods, feeling at least a little bit better about all of this now that Sam’s laid it out for him. “You can get a new cell phone, write him the number, and then he can call you and you’ll _memorize his number_ so this doesn’t happen again,” Sam quips. “And we both know he’ll come visit you whenever he can. Gabe always says they’re loaded, right, so it’s probably just a quick flight and you guys can see each other every weekend.”

Dean offers a small smile. “Yeah. He’ll probably come visit twice a week.” Sam smiles back encouragingly. “Thanks, kid. I don’t think I’m really thinking all that clearly. This is already the longest I’ve gone without seeing him since June and I just - I really miss him, you know? It’s gonna suck so bad.” Sam nods his understanding, and before Dean breaks down and cries in the middle of the store, he sniffles and changes the subject. “Hey, uh, how’re you doing with all this? With - with dad?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. It sounds terrible but I kind of felt relief at first, knowing that he won’t hurt you anymore, but now... I don’t know if Samuel is going to be much better.”

Dean exhales. “Yeah, I’m getting that, too.”

“I’m more upset about having to move,” Sam confesses. “South River was the first place that ever felt like home. I’m going to miss my friends, my hockey team, Gabe and Cas.” He sniffles a little bit. "He - it was kinda nice to have somebody looking out for both of us, you know?"

Dean’s eyes start watering again. “I know, Sammy. Soon as I turn 18 I’m gonna try and get custody of you and then we can come back, okay? It’s less than six months from now. You’ll probably walk back on to your hockey team and Gabe’ll be so excited to see you you’ll have to piggyback the little shrimp around for a month.”

Sam nods, fighting back tears of his own, and then when Samuel sticks his head in the door and barks at them to hurry up, they both shove it down, hit the bathroom and stock up on snacks like they were told.

Castiel wakes up naked and alone, with a vague memory of Dean telling him he’d call him. He rolls over and reaches for his phone to see it’s been almost an hour since Dean left but he hasn’t actually called yet. He sends a quick text message.  
  
**CASTIEL:** I’m awake, let me know when you want me to come over. Miss you already, coffee bean.

He smiles to himself when he thinks about Dean’s cheeks turning his favorite shade of pink when he reads that, and stretches languidly before he gets up to walk into the bathroom with the goal of showering in mind. He’s just finishing up emptying his bladder when he hears a knock on his bedroom door. He throws a housecoat on and finds the housekeeper standing there with a worried look on her face.

“There’s a police officer waiting for you in the foyer,” she tells him.

He furrows his brow but says, “I’ll just get dressed. Please let him know I’ll be there in a moment.”

She nods and Castiel pulls on boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt with a grimace over how he reeks like sex and heat (a delicious scent to him, but not the way he’d choose to smell being around anybody else, least of all a police officer) before he hurries down the hallway.

The police officer turns to face him. “Castiel Milton?”

“Yes,” Castiel answers.

“Are you the boyfriend of the omega Dean Winchester?”

Castiel feels fear hit him like a physical blow. “Yes. Is he alright? Was it his father?”

“You are under arrest for Sexual Interference with a minor.”

“What?” Castiel exclaims, both shocked and confused. “Dean’s seventeen!”

“I wish to give you the following warning: You need not say anything. You have nothing to hope from any promise or favor and nothing to fear from any threat whether or not you say anything. Anything you do or say may be used as evidence. Do you understand?”

Castiel turns to the housekeeper as all feeling leaves his body. “Call my mother.”

She nods, and then, in the most surreal experience of his life, he’s cuffed and escorted to the back of a police car. It only gets more surreal from there. His clothes and personal belongings are confiscated, his fingerprints and his mug shot is taken, and then he’s thrown in a cell full of criminals all wearing the same orange shirt and pants he’s currently dressed in.

He says nothing and stays completely still while he waits for his mother to hire a lawyer, absolutely positive that as soon as he gets a chance to explain what’s going on he’ll be let go with an apology. His biggest worry is Dean not knowing what happened to him when he doesn’t come over right away, but obviously he’ll understand once he’s heard from him.

He doesn’t know for sure because there isn’t a clock available, but it feels like it’s been an hour or so when a police officer approaches the jail cell and says, “Milton, come with me.” He’s led into a room where there’s a smarmy looking man wearing a suit, obviously wearing blockers since he doesn’t smell like anything. Which makes sense, Castiel realizes belatedly; if he’s a lawyer, he wouldn’t want his scent to give away how he’s feeling about anything. The man gets to his feet as Castiel walks in and offers his hand as the door closes behind him.

“Ketch, Arthur Ketch,” he says in a British accent as he shakes Castiel’s hand.

“My lawyer, I presume?” Castiel asks.

“Yes, of course,” Arthur responds. “I was quite pleased to get a phone call from Naomi Milton of all people.” When Castiel gives him a dirty look, he smiles sheepishly. “Not because of the subject matter, of course.”

“This has all been a huge misunderstanding,” Castiel tells him.

Arthur frowns. “You’re not in a sexual relationship with 17-year-old Dean Winchester?”

“I am, but it’s completely consensual. Surely you’d just have to ask him?”

“Be that as it may, it’s against the law to have sexual contact with a minor under 18 with more than a five year age difference between you.”

“There _is_ only a five year age difference between us,” Castiel says, wondering where the hell his mother came up with an imbecile like this guy as his lawyer. “He’s 17, I’m 22. Not exactly complicated math.”

“Five years _or less,”_ Arthur explains. “You’ll be 23 in September, and Dean won’t be 18 until...?”

“January,” Castiel answers automatically.

“So you can see there’s more than five years between you. Not exactly complicated math.”

Castiel swallows hard as the implications of what Arthur is saying sink in. “I had no idea that was the law. I thought it was five years.”

“I’m sure you can imagine judges hear the same thing from rapists on a daily basis.”

“I am not a rapist,” Castiel snarls.

“I understand, Castiel. Young omegas can be quite charming with their ripe scents and lithe bodies, can’t they?” Arthur chuckles. “I imagine most men would have a hard time resisting if offered the chance to break one in, and I’ve seen photos of Dean. His lips alone -”

Castiel is leaning across the table with a fistful of Arthur’s shirt and a growl rumbling low in his chest in a heartbeat. “If you talk about my omega like that again _I will_ break your nose.”

Arthur nods, and Castiel sits back in his seat, still silently fuming. “I apologize. I seem to have misjudged the situation,” Arthur says, straightening out his shirt and tie.

Castiel takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “Dean and I have been in a relationship since the end of January. I love him, he loves me, and we intend to mate once he’s old enough.”

“So you haven’t given him a mating bite then?” Arthur checks.

“Do you see a mating bite on my neck?” Castiel asks sharply.

“No, but not all alphas agree to matching bites.”

“I will when we mate because Dean and I are equals, but in answer to your question, no. I haven’t bitten him yet.”

Arthur looks completely shocked by that, but nods nonetheless and starts scribbling on a notepad. “Does anybody else know you’re in a sexual relationship with him?”

“Our brothers, I suppose, since I just helped him through his most recent heat, but other than that it’s not as if I’ve broadcasted what takes place behind closed doors. And I’m sure he hasn’t either.”

“Good, good,” Arthur nods. “And out in public? No sexual contact of any kind then either?” Castiel blinks at him, wondering if he’s serious. “Kissing, sexual touching, scenting?” Arthur prompts.

Castiel flushes but admits, “We have never been shy about showing one another affection in public.”

Arthur looks like he just took a bite out of a lemon. “And, erm, where exactly might this affection have taken place?”

“Everywhere,” Castiel says tersely. “Our first kiss was at the Ice Follies, we’ve been to our brothers’ hockey games, the beach, restaurants, the park, the outdoor rink, prom...”

“Oh dear,” Arthur says quietly. “So there’s no feasible chance of denying the allegations, then?”

“No,” Castiel admits. “And surely that right there is enough proof that I didn’t know it was illegal. Why on earth would I be parading my omega around in public if I knew I could be arrested for it?”

“You raise an excellent point, Mr. Milton. Unfortunately, not knowing about the law doesn’t excuse you from breaking it. I’m afraid your best chance is to plead guilty.”

 _“What?”_ Castiel asks. “Guilty of sexual interference with a minor? That makes me sound like - like I’m a pedophile or something and I’m no such thing!”

“Perhaps we can negotiate a guilty plea for a lesser crime,” Arthur offers, but Castiel’s mind is already spinning.

“What kind of sentence are we looking at if that doesn’t work?”

“Absolute worst case scenario? 14 years in prison.”

“Oh my god,” Castiel whispers hoarsely, feeling like his world is crumbling right before his eyes when he didn’t even do anything wrong.

“A year is the best we can hope for with the current charges, but if I can strike a bargain with a guilty plea considering the circumstances - and quite frankly, your mother’s name - I think you might get off without any jail time at all if we can lessen the charge.”

“Obviously that would be preferable,” Castiel says quietly.

Arthur nods and stuffs his notebook back in his briefcase. “Okay then. For the time being, you’re released on bail thanks to your mother’s checkbook, and I’ll be in touch regarding the sentencing.”

“That’s it?” Castiel asks.

“Oh, right. In the interim, you’re not allowed within 100 feet of a daycare, school, or playground.”

“I work at the local high schools,” Castiel tells him.

“Not anymore you don’t. And I suggest you stop tutoring at students’ homes as well.”

“What about Dean?” Castiel asks.

Arthur grimaces. “You’re an intelligent man, Castiel.”

“I won’t stop seeing him,” Castiel insists. “He’s my mate.”

“I severely advise against it, but if you’re not going to listen to reason, which I suspect you won’t, do not let _anybody_ see you touch him in public including holding hands, and for heaven’s sake, Castiel, don’t speak to a police officer reeking like heat and sex again until Dean turns 18. I’ll be in touch.”

Arthur gets up and walks out of the room leaving him alone and still in shock, but only a minute later a guard comes in to unlock the room and escort him to change back into his clothes. He has to sign a bunch of paperwork, and then he’s given his cell phone and wallet back, and he walks out of the police department already dialing Dean’s phone number.

It goes to voicemail.

He calls a cab to get back to his place, grabs his keys, and immediately drives to Dean’s. Dean is his safe place, his omega, and he needs him now more than ever. The Impala isn’t there when he arrives, and he realizes with unease that he has no idea where Dean might be or why he never called him as he said he would. Wondering if maybe his father came back and took the car, he parks in the parking lot and walks into his apartment building.

The door is open a crack, and he can smell the lingering scent of burnt coffee in the air as he approaches it, sending his protective instincts into overdrive when he pushes the door open and finds the apartment not only empty of bodies, but of possessions. Dean’s bed has been stripped, the television gone, his dresser drawers empty of clothes. A quick look into Sam’s bedroom shows the exact same thing, and Castiel is having a hard time making sense of what he’s seeing.

Dean can’t be gone. Dean is his omega, his mate; he can’t be gone.

Castiel’s throat is clogged with fear and emotion when he tries calling Dean again, leaving a voicemail this time. “Dean, I’m at your apartment and it’s empty. All of your things are gone. What’s going on? Are you okay? Please call me as soon as you get this. I’m so worried about you.” His voice cracks when he admits that out loud for the first time, and his, “I love you,” is barely even a whisper when he chokes it out.

Completely lost as to what to do next but knowing he has to do _something,_ he leaves the apartment and knocks on the door next to Dean’s. An old woman he doesn’t recognize answers the door, and he takes a step back when he realizes how terrible he must smell when she wrinkles up her nose. “My apologies. I’m Castiel Milton -”

“You’re the one who’s been taking care of those boys next door,” she says.

“Yes,” Castiel answers, relieved that’s how she sees it considering the day he’s had. “Their apartment is empty. Do you happen to know what exactly went on?”

“I saw a police officer and four men leaving with boxes, but I don’t know who they were. That boy of yours sure put up one hell of a fight, though. Could hear him yelling through the walls.”

Castiel is simultaneously proud and terrified to hear that. If Dean was fighting that means it must have been someone he didn’t want to go with. “Was one of the men his father?” When she looks at him blankly, he says, “Tall, dark hair, likely smelled of alcohol and burning plastic?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t get a real good look but I don’t think so. Seemed the one who was calling the shots was the short little bald guy, smelled like pepper.”

Castiel has no idea who that might be or why Dean and Sam would have to go with him. “If you see Dean or that man again, could I trouble you to call me?”

“Of course, sugar,” the woman says, stepping inside to grab a small notepad and pen that was stuck to the refrigerator. Castiel dutifully writes down his name and phone number, thanks her profusely, and then makes his way back to his car. Without knowing what else to do, he drives around the city for a few hours trying to think of anywhere Dean might be, keeping a lookout for the Impala, but eventually he’s forced to admit he doesn’t know where else to look or what else to do. He feels like a dead man walking by the time he pulls into the garage and walks through the door where he’s met by a pacing Gabriel.

“Jesus, Cassie, you get dragged out of here in handcuffs and don’t even call when you get out?” Gabriel exclaims, launching himself at him in a tight hug.

Castiel returns the hug, apologizing, but still feeling more dead than alive. “I’m so sorry Gabriel, I had other things on my mind but you’re right, I should have called.”

“What the hell is going on?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I - I can’t talk about it right now, I’m sorry.” Then, as it occurs to him, he asks, “Hey, have you heard from Sam today?”

“No. His phone isn’t working. I tried calling him to see if he knew what the hell was going on with you but his phone went straight to voicemail and the stupid giant isn’t answering my texts.”

“If you hear from him, please come and get me immediately. It’s very important. Do you understand?” When Gabriel nods, Castiel pats him once on the shoulder and heads for his bedroom.

“Cas?” Gabriel calls after him. Castiel pauses long enough to turn around. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Castiel says honestly, and the scent of rotting fruit follows him down the hallway, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Everything seems to hit him at once as the lingering scent of Dean and his heat and sex greets him as he crosses the threshold.

Fear, shame, heartbreak, and helplessness all descends on him like an oppressive dark cloud, suddenly obliterating the sense of nothingness he’d felt since he was placed in handcuffs. He falls onto his bed as everything crashes down upon him, grabs the pillow that smells most like Dean, brings it to his face, and screams and sobs into it until his voice is raw and the pillow is soaked with a combination of snot and tears, wishing desperately the entire time that he still felt nothing at all.

Dean legitimately feels like his body is shutting down. His brain is sluggish, he keeps getting hot and then cold flashes, his hands won’t stop shaking, he can’t sleep, and he can’t eat. He spends all night every night crying or tossing and turning, even reaching for Cas in his sleep and waking himself up in a panic when he isn’t there only to remember he didn’t fall asleep with him after all. Sam tries telling Samuel that Dean needs to see a doctor, but Samuel says he’s not made of money and refuses to take him in to be seen, which is fine with Dean. He’s already pretty sure everything that’s happening is all because of a broken heart, and if Samuel won’t let him out of the house then he has no way to contact Cas anyway, so it isn’t going to get better no matter how much he pays for a doctor.

It’s two fucking weeks before Samuel lets him leave the house with the car by himself. Two weeks of crying himself to sleep, of missing Cas so much it actually physically hurts, of not being able to sit still because it feels like there’s bugs crawling all over his skin, and of reeking like a burnt coffee pot. Though it feels like it’s been _years,_ it’s really only the beginning of August when he finally gets the okay to go for a drive, so he takes Sammy and the two of them head to the library, where they’ve already discussed is their best shot at finding free internet.

He’s not even a little bit ashamed about basically running to the first computer he finds, with Sam chuckling good-naturedly hot on his heels. Once he reaches the computer, he gestures urgently for Sam to take a seat considering he’s so much better with computers than he is, and he watches while Sam brings up Google and types in Naomi Milton, South River. Plenty of news articles come up, but apparently, the address and phone number is unlisted.

“Kinda makes sense since she’s a big shot,” Sam says.

“Okay, but we already know his address, so can we just find the postal code?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods, and it’s only a few clicks before it shows up. Dean copies it down carefully onto the postcard he’s already written on and stamped, and it’s with a sense of relief that he drops it into the mailbox. This is the beginning of the end of time without Cas, and he can’t wait to hear his voice again.

_Cas,_

_My dad died in a car accident and my Grandpa Campbell made us move to Kansas. He took my phone and broke it in half so I don’t have your phone number to call and explain. I don’t have a new cell phone yet but I’ll tell you as soon as I do. I miss you so much, alpha. I didn’t want to go without you. Everything hurts and I can’t sleep alone anymore. Can you come visit? I’d fucking kill to scent you right now. I know you were probably so worried and I’m so sorry, Cas. Write me back as soon as you get this and give me your phone number, okay? I hope you’re okay. I miss you every minute of every day. I love you._

_Always your omega,_

_Dean_

It’s no wonder Castiel can’t decipher the plea agreement in front of him. It’s been three hellish weeks since Dean disappeared into thin air, and Castiel can barely breathe let alone read a legal document.

He misses Dean so much it’s an ache inside of him, a throbbing cavern so big and dark it feels like it’s always seconds away from literally tearing him apart. The pain is so real, so visceral, that at times he has to keep his hand on his stomach to remind him there isn’t an actual hole there. He never believed in the whole “you complete me” notion he’d heard about in passing and those old true mate fairy tales, but it’s something he understands all too well now.

It’s not surprising that he can’t get out of bed on most days. He feels as if his skin is stretched too tight on his body and crawling with microscopic insects that make him feel on-edge all the time. He can’t relax, can’t sleep, can’t stop his body or inner alpha for calling out for his mate constantly. He misses everything about Dean. His scent; the way it settles something inside of him that’s now in a constant state of turmoil. His smile, his nose pressed against his scent gland, his laugh; the way he throws his head back and laughs with his entire body when something’s funny enough. The way his freckles disappear behind his blush, the feeling of his smaller body curled against his own as they sleep, his beautiful omega bathed in a halo of sunlight as he moves on top of him, making them one time and time again.

His hand unconsciously moves to his stomach once again when he’s wracked by a renewed sense of emptiness so vast he can’t catch his breath through the unbearable scent of rotten blueberries.

“Castiel,” his mother says sharply.

He jerks, once again so lost in the all-encompassing pain that he completely forgot she and Arthur were here with him waiting for him to make a decision. “This is the absolute best you can do?” Castiel asks for the sixth time, staring down at the plea agreement.

“This is more than acceptable. You won’t have jail time at all,” his mother says.

“I’ll be a registered sex offender for twenty five years!” Castiel points out. “And I didn’t even do anything wrong!”

“You had sexual relations with a minor, Castiel. Regardless of how you spin it to make yourself feel better, the fact remains a fact.”

“He’s seventeen, he’s not a minor! And this law is stupid!” Castiel retorts, fully aware of how he himself sounds childish. “Because of _four months_ between Dean and I, that makes me a threat to children? Dean is not a child!”

“If you don’t plead guilty, you go to jail. For a year minimum,” his mother reminds him. “This is a small price to pay.”

“I’ll never be able to be a teacher,” Castiel says, his red-rimmed, already rubbed raw eyes filling as he says it. “Not a tutor. Nothing that involves children ever again.”

“For twenty-five years,” Arthur corrects, and if looks could kill, surely the glare Castiel aims in his direction would have him buried six feet under.

“Anytime I try to apply for a job this is all they’re going to see. I’ll never be able to provide for Dean and Sam.”

“Those boys are gone anyway,” his mother reminds him coldly.

“They’ll be back,” Castiel insists. He knows there’s no way Dean won’t be back; the certainty that his mate will return to him is the only thing keeping him alive.

“Some omegas are progressive now, or so I’ve heard,” Arthur offers weakly. “Perhaps... he can provide for you.”

He might respond to that if he felt like any of it was genuine. Instead, he wraps his other arm across his stomach and holds tightly as another wave of nausea runs through him. “Signing this is putting the first nail in my coffin at 22 years old,” Castiel says quietly. “If I sign this, my life is over. I’ll never - I’ll never get to teach, get a decent job, be allowed to bring my own children to daycare, coach hockey or baseball. Anytime anybody searches my name this will be the first thing that comes up.”

“Arthur has assured me if you sign the plea agreement it won’t go to court, and though it’s a matter of public record, I have already paid off the appropriate people to make sure this news won’t be published in the local papers or anywhere else, for that matter,” his mother tells him.

"Though you will still be on the list of registered sex offenders," Arthur tells him. "And you will have to disclose that on any job applications."

Castiel buries his fingers in his hair, wishing for the millionth time that Dean was here to talk this through with him. Dean would know what questions to ask and just the right thing to say to make him laugh instead of wanting to drown himself in the bathtub. His scent would soothe him as it always did, and god, how he misses that gourmet coffee smell. Again, just the mere thought of Dean causes him to miss him so fiercely he can hardly breathe, forgetting long enough about the problem in front of him to be hit with the non-stop physical and emotional pain he’s been dealing with since he last saw Dean.

“Concentrate, Castiel,” his mother says, her voice sharp as a whip, and he exhales as his fingers tighten in his hair.

He stares at the plea agreement in front of him, the words blurred from how many times he’s looked at them. The only thing sticking out to him are the words _guilty_ and _registered sex offender,_ like they’re in all caps, bolded, and ten times the size of all the other words, even though he knows they’re not.

“Castiel, you realize that even if you plead not guilty and ultimately get charged, you’ll still have these same stipulations. You’ll still be a registered sex offender,” Arthur mentions.

“But at least I won’t have admitted to doing something wrong,” Castiel replies, his knee jiggling to the beat of uncertainty inside of him.

“What I don’t think you’re understanding is that admitting to it doesn’t matter,” his mother says. “If you get charged, you’re guilty either way.”

“It matters to me,” Castiel says firmly.

“Then don’t sign it,” she says calmly, and Castiel nods his head, having made his decision. He and Dean are in love and _made love,_ there was no assault or rape or anything other than love and tenderness between them and he won’t cheapen it by signing this piece of paper. He’s not going to admit to being guilty of something he doesn’t feel guilty over. “Hopefully when that little omega of yours comes back for you like you say he will, you don't have to bite him through iron bars.”

The very idea of not being able to take Dean into his arms the moment he comes back, and _he will_ come back, has him picking up the pen and signing his name in three different places with a steadier hand than he ever could have imagined. Dean is his omega and it’s his job to take care of him first no matter the cost to himself.

“Excellent,” Arthur says, gathering the paperwork.

But Castiel is already out of his seat and hurrying to his bedroom where he types out another teary eyed text message to Dean he refuses to acknowledge Dean will never actually receive, blissfully unaware of the conversation that continues downstairs without him.

“I thought for a moment there you were going to have to tell him,” Arthur says, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

Naomi glances down at the postcard in the file folder open in her lap that lays out in excruciating detail why this particular omega just will not do for her eldest son. Dead parents, a nomad, his father an alcoholic and penniless, an _American._ No. She should have insisted upon that dinner she mentioned so long ago; perhaps then she would have been able to stop this nonsense before it began. Scent bonded though her son may be to the little beggar of a boy, he’s a Milton. He’ll get over the withdrawals on his own, and if he doesn’t, she knows exactly what to do in order to get him there.

“No. Believe me, my son has seen the last of that little gold digging whore,” Naomi declares.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CONTENT WARNING:** In this chapter, Dean discusses not being able to have children and how that makes him feel. If this is triggering for you, please proceed with caution.

**_2019_ **

“No,” Dean replies. _Cas is a registered sex offender?_ “You can’t be. You’d never. I know you, Cas, you would never in a million years do something like that.”

“What was the charge again, Cassie?” Gabriel says it in such a way that it makes it obvious he knows exactly what it is. “Sexual interference with a minor?”

Dean continues shaking his head minutely even as Cas’s face turns white as a ghost. Yeah, Cas had been into him when he was 16, but he refused to touch him before that and Dean had tried for weeks before his 17th birthday to change his mind, and he wasn’t even a minor then.

“Cas, come on,” Dean prompts him. “What are you guys talking about? You’d never lay a finger on somebody underage.”

“I love you,” Cas whispers softly, for only them to hear. He sounds choked up when he continues, “You never - you never doubted me for a second.”

“‘course not,” Dean answers immediately. “You wouldn’t even touch _me_ before I turned 17 and you were in a rut.”

“It _was you,_ you idiot,” Gabe bursts out with.

“What?” Dean asks, frowning at Cas. “How could it be me? I wasn’t even a minor when we met.”

Cas still looks alarmingly pale and unbearably sad, so he does the one thing he knows will calm him down, and turns his head to the side and tugs Cas in until his nose finds his scent gland. He does his best to think of happy thoughts, to think of being back with Cas for good, of being Cas’s _true mate_ as he strokes the soft hair at the back of his alpha’s neck, feeling the stress and worry begin to leave him with each deep inhale.

“‘s okay, Cas,” Dean says quietly. “Whatever it is doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe it matters _to him,_ you ever think of that?” Gabe says from the kitchen table. “Maybe he doesn’t _want_ to be true mates with the person responsible for ruining his entire life.”

“That’s enough, Gabriel,” Cas says firmly, moving forward so that he shields Dean behind him. “You’ve made your point. You already forced me to tell Dean about my past when I wasn’t quite ready, but I refuse to let you sit in _my_ kitchen and insult my mate for another moment.”

“He’s not your mate yet,” Gabe points out.

“He’s always been my mate,” Cas growls, and _damn,_ that growl is even hotter than he remembers it being. “Get out.”

“I own this house -” Gabe starts.

“Fine.” Cas cuts him off, turning back to Dean. “Dean, would you like to accompany me elsewhere so we can talk privately without being interrupted?”

“Literally anywhere,” Dean says instantly, feeling more than a little warm under the collar at watching Cas get defensive on his behalf and going all alpha on his brother.

“Okay, okay,” Gabe says with a sigh. “I’ll go. But we aren’t done here, Winchester. You have _years_ of making my brother miserable to make up for.”

He loses a second to shock from being addressed like that again, but recovers quickly. “Believe me, I plan on making it up to him the second you leave.” Dean says it tauntingly and with a smirk, which gets a bark of laughter from Gabe. He always did have the weirdest sense of humor.

Gabe gets to his feet and says, “Hey, you mentioned Samboni was here too, didn’t you?”

Dean can’t hold in his own chuckle at the nickname for his brother. He’s gonna get some use out of that. “Yeah, we stayed at the Sunset Inn.” He squints while he tries to remember which room number and realizes he has no idea, he just went by his car. “I don’t know which room it was though.”

“No biggie, been a few years since I played ding-dong ditch anyway,” Gabe says, sounding completely serious. “I’ll be back.”

“Can’t wait,” Dean says sarcastically, earning himself a middle finger thrown over Gabe’s shoulder as he walks away. The door closes behind him, and Dean doesn’t even think before he wraps his arms around Cas’s neck and holds him close, breathing in the scent of blueberry and dark chocolate like he’ll never get another whiff. What the fuck was he _thinking_ walking away from this voluntarily? He was such an idiot. He’s never leaving him again, never leaving _his sight_ if he can help it.

Cas clings back for a long time, and Dean is more than happy to stand there forever if that’s what Cas needs. Eventually, though, Cas releases him and offers him a shy smile. “When did you get so tall?”

He smiles back ruefully, wondering if Cas is gonna have a problem with that. “Turned 18 and sprung up a foot overnight, or so Sam says anyway.” He swallows thickly and asks, “How do you feel about your omega being taller than you?”

“You could have sprouted horns and a nose like Pinocchio and it wouldn’t matter to me.” Dean relaxes fully, letting out a silent breath of relief. “Should we sit here to talk or go into the living room where we might be more comfortable?”

“Whatever you want,” Dean says, still concerned over how pale he went earlier.

Cas’s fingers slip between his as he leads the way to the living room. Dean sits on the cracked brown leather couch and can hardly believe it was only yesterday that he was cleaning Cas’s bleeding head on this exact spot. It feels like it’s been weeks since then. They settle next to each other comfortably, thighs touching and their hands still entwined between them.

“Where do you wanna start?” Dean asks.

Cas barely waits a breath, giving him the impression he’s been dying to ask, before he says, “Why did you leave in 2007? Where did you go?”

Dean narrows his eyes. “I told you already.”

Cas responds by tilting his head to the side, an adorable oddity he still hasn’t outgrown, apparently. “When?”

“The postcard I sent,” Dean replies. “And the hundred letters after that.”

Once again, Dean watches as the color drains from Cas’s face and his scent sours. “You wrote to me?”

“For like, three years,” Dean admits quietly. “More at first. It was two weeks before I was allowed out of the house on my own but literally the first thing me and Sammy did was go to the library and find your postal code so I could mail you the postcard I bought to explain what happened. You never got it?”

“No,” Cas says sadly.

Dean can’t help the sigh of relief. “Always kinda hoped that’s what happened.”

“If I knew where you were, Dean, I would have found a way to come to you in a heartbeat. Please tell me you know that.”

Dean nods, remembering how many times Sam told him the same thing at the beginning. “So you really had no idea why I left all this time?” Cas shakes his head. “The day I left, Sam texted me our code word for help, basically our SOS, you know, and that’s why I bailed on you that day.”

Cas’s eyes flash with anger and his voice is firm when he says, “You should have woken me up if you thought he was in trouble.”

“You know how many times I wondered what would’ve happened if I did?” Dean asks quietly. “At the time I was afraid it was my dad. Thought if it was my dad it would be bad enough that I was showing up on the tail-end of my heat reeking like you,” he says with a crooked smile. “But it wasn’t my dad. When I got home, a police officer was there with my Grandpa Campbell.”

“The one that used to send you money for your birthday?” Cas asks, sounding confused.

“Yeah,” Dean says flatly. “The police officer was there to grant him custody because my dad died in a car crash.”

Cas’s eyes go wide and sad. “Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Was a long time ago.” And honestly, horribly, that was the least of his problems back then. “My grandpa said he lived in Kansas and that’s where he was taking me and Sam. He took my fucking phone and snapped it in half when I was trying to call you before we even left the apartment,” he says, still bitter over that after all these years. “I begged, Cas. I honestly begged him to let me call you and tell you why we had to go but he said he didn’t have time for some alpha in a rage over him taking me away. I didn’t wanna go, didn’t want to leave this place at all and _especially_ didn’t want to leave you, but the police officer said if I didn’t go with him then me and Sam would both be put in foster care and would probably end up being separated.” He swallows hard. Talking about this is bringing back the memories of how much it hurt to choose Sam over Cas. “It - it was the hardest decision of my life, Cas, but I couldn’t - I couldn’t just let them take Sam away from me. He was the only family I had.”

Cas’s arm comes around him and he pulls him in until his head is on Cas’s shoulder. “Of course you couldn’t,” he agrees. “I never would have wanted you to do that in the first place. Sam needed you, Dean, he was still just a pup.”

Dean nods as he tries to collect himself, taking in deep breaths of Cas’s blueberry scent, dulled with sadness but still so comforting. “I really didn’t know your phone number. We tried to call you from a gas station along the way but I couldn’t remember what it was, and without our cell phones we had no way to figure it out. So it was two weeks before we got to a computer to find your postal code, then I sent you a postcard that day asking for you to tell me your number so I could call. And I just kept writing every week even though you never wrote back.”

“I never got them,” Cas says again. “I would’ve been dealing with the arrest when you sent the first postcard, but there’s no way my mother wouldn’t have gotten it. She must have hidden it from me. But I still searched for you. I Googled you once a month for the last ten years, searched Facebook and Twitter and all of those ridiculous sites. Sam, too, but I never found either of you.”

“My grandpa changed Sam’s last name,” Dean explains, his heart turning to ice in his chest. “Sam said he felt like he wasn’t related to me anymore so I changed mine to match his. I never - fuck, I was stupid, but I never even thought about it stopping you from finding me.”

“Your last name isn’t Winchester anymore?”

“Campbell,” he confirms. “But we’re changing them back now that we’re here. Don’t want anymore ties to that old dick bag,” he says fiercely. “We can talk about that later, though.” He waves it away and gets back to his explanation. “I, uh, I could never find you on anything either.”

“After I was charged and the rumors started spreading I was hounded with threats,” Cas says quietly. “I don’t have any social media pages.”

“Oh,” Dean says breathlessly, aching for everything Cas must have gone through without him. “What happened, Cas?”

Cas’s free hand finds his and squeezes firmly before he starts talking. “The day you left I was arrested,” Cas says quietly. “I had no idea, but there’s a law saying anybody under the age of 18 cannot give consent to sexual activity legally unless there are less than five years between the two parties.”

“There _is_ only five years between us.”

 _“Less than_ being the important part,” Cas explains. “Apparently those extra four months make me a pedophile and a rapist in the eyes of the law.”

Dean feels rage pump through his veins like fire. He turns so that Cas is looking directly into his eyes and holds eye contact. “You never raped me. You know that, right?”

“According to the law -”

“Fuck the law,” Dean says angrily. “I knew exactly what I was consenting to every single time you touched me. You gotta know that, Cas.”

Cas breathes in deeply but nods. “I never felt like I did anything wrong and I was absolutely adamant at first, but the older I got, the more I wondered if I took advantage of you being so young.”

“I was 17, which is older than the age of consent. And honestly, you were a fucking saint for waiting six months when I was begging you for it every time we were naked _and_ when I was in heat.”

“And my entire life was ruined because of it anyway,” Cas says darkly.

“Your entire life?” Dean questions.

Cas gestures to the space around him. “Gabriel had to buy me this house because I could barely keep my head above water. After a... falling out... with my mother shortly after you left, I cut all ties to her and had to try surviving on my own for the first time. Unfortunately, the entire city thought I was a child molester which made it almost impossible to get a job. I worked the night shift at a Gas ‘n’ Sip for eight years and lived in a one bedroom apartment the size of a shoebox before Gabriel finally pulled some strings and got me a job at an accounting firm. I’m more stable now, but I’ll be a registered sex offender for another 13 years.” Every time he says ‘registered sex offender’ Dean gets hit with an intense wave of sour blueberry. “Obviously I can’t adopt. I can’t live anywhere near a school, daycare, or park, and even though I hate every minute of being stuck behind a desk all day with the world’s biggest dick as a boss, it’s the best job I can even dream of landing for the rest of my life.” Cas turns to look him in the eye then, and though his too-blue eyes are glistening, his voice starts off steady and sure. “I love you, Dean, more than anything. But my life is a mess. Before you came back I was miserable in every way. I have - I have n-nothing.” Cas’s voice cracks for the first time, and though Dean is _dying_ to interrupt and tell him that doesn’t matter to him at all, he also knows Cas probably has to get it off his chest. So though it kills him to do it, he sits quietly with his alpha’s hand still held in his and listens carefully as he bares his soul. “I don’t have a thing to my name but a bad reputation... and I would be... I would be an embarrassment of an alpha...” The first tears spill over and begin rolling down his cheeks. “A t-terrible mate for anyone. But _you,_ you deserve so much better than what little I can - I can offer you, Dean.”

Dean lifts their hands to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of Cas’s hand. “So when do you wanna mate?”

Cas’s breath hitches as he tries to contain his sobs. “W-what? I just told you -”

“That you spent the last twelve years working yourself to the bone to survive and being punished for something that wasn’t even wrong - being punished for one of the best moments of my life. I get you went through a lot, which is why I’m not gonna kick your ass for forgetting somewhere along the way that even though I’m your omega, you don’t get to decide if I think you’re worthy or not. I do. And I love you,” Dean says passionately.

Cas’s bottom lip is wobbling and Dean’s heart is positively _aching_ for him. Hoping he isn’t crossing a line, he follows his instincts to just get closer to him, to comfort him, and crawls right into his lap and straddles him, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding him close when Cas starts to cry in earnest. “I love you,” he repeats, loudly enough to be heard over the sound of his alpha’s heart-wrenching sobs. “I always loved you and I’m always gonna love you. I’m so fucking sorry you’ve been dealing with all this without me all this time, but you’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m gonna be here,” he promises, leaning back enough to seal it with a kiss to his cheek. “I’m gonna be here every day to make you smile and laugh, be here when you get home from work and when you wake up in the morning, and I’m gonna tell you every day how much I love you, and literally none of that other stuff matters.”

“Wh-why?” Cas asks, his voice still coming out cracked and pathetic sounding.

“Because you’re my mate, Cas. Because I promised you _always_ twelve years ago and I never stopped meaning it.”

Cas swallows so hard Dean can see his Adam’s apple bob. “What if that was all because of the scent bond?”

Dean can’t help the way his own scent sweetens, still so fucking pleased that he’s stayed bonded with Cas all this time he can’t hold it in all the way. “So what if it was?” Dean asks. “Our scent bond stayed for twelve years because it was so strong. Because we’re supposed to be together. Are you honestly tryin’ to tell me you don’t think that?”

Finally, Dean sees a ghost of a smile on Cas’s face, and to him, it’s like the sun just came out on a cloudy day. “No. I was trying to be a good alpha, trying to make sure you’ve considered all the options. I just want you to be happy.”

“Newsflash, old man,” Dean teases him, getting a true smile now that’s a hundred times more beautiful than the tiny smile he got only a few seconds ago. _“You_ are what makes me happy. I feel like I haven’t been really happy since the day I left.”

Cas’s hands cup his face, and now that his heat isn’t taking over all of his thoughts, he has a split second to be surprised that Cas’s hands really are as huge as he remembered even after Dean grew into his adult body. “I never wanted you to be unhappy, my not-so-little coffee bean,” Cas says with a smile. Dean lets out a laugh that would probably be called a giggle if he were a woman, and again, Cas’s smile is breathtaking as his thumb brushes along his cheekbone. “Tell me everything I missed in the last twelve years.”

Dean huffs out another laugh, and when an idea comes to him, he keeps his arms around Cas’s shoulders and pulls him down sideways until they land on their sides facing each other on the couch. If it wasn’t for Cas’s arm slung around his back, he definitely would have fallen off the side, because it turns out they’re a lot bigger now than they used to be when they were younger.

But Cas is laughing so hard his nose is scrunched up, and even though it wasn’t nearly as smooth as he thought it would be, it’s worth it just to see him look happy and hear his low, rumbling laugh.

“Guess we’re too big to fit like this now,” Dean says with a bit of a pout. He has very fond memories of curling up on his couch with Cas just like this and he’s not entirely ready to give that up.

“Nonsense,” Cas disagrees. “It just might take a little bit of maneuvering, that’s all. Hang on.” Cas scoots up further, wraps his bottom arm under and around Dean’s shoulders, presses his ass back against the couch harder, tugs Dean in by the middle with his upper arm, and slots their legs together, and with a few minor adjustments, they’re in. “There,” he says proudly.

“Yeah, but I’ve got like, four minutes max before this arm goes numb,” Dean says, wiggling the fingers of the arm that’s stuck awkwardly underneath him and between their bodies.

“Then four minutes is the time slot you have available to give me a rundown of the highlights of the last twelve years. This is your mission, should you choose to accept it.”

Dean snickers. “That’s probably the last movie you watched.”

Cas’s teeth flash again when he smiles, and he knows he’s close to being right. “You’re wasting time, coffee bean.”

Dean laughs but takes a deep, dramatic breath, and starts talking.

“I knew I was stuck in Kansas until January when I turned 18 and could get out on my own. The plan at the beginning was to find a job so I could get an apartment and take in Sam on my own and tell Samuel to go fuck himself. But when I started looking, rent was fucking expensive and even though I kept applying, nobody would take an 18 year old with no credit, no job history, and no references without somebody to co-sign, so I was fucked. Samuel found out what I was trying to do, and for some reason I still don’t get even now, he said if I stayed and helped him with Sam that he would pay for us both to go to school. Since my scholarship from the Ontario government didn’t carry over to Kansas when I moved, I knew it was that or never go to school.”

“I’m glad you stayed and got an education,” Cas says earnestly.

“You might not think that when I keep talking,” Dean warns him with a grimace. “For the first, I dunno, year or two maybe, the worst thing Samuel ever did was break my phone. He kept a real tight ship, I still had to do a shit ton of chores and I got roughed up a bit or no meals for a few days if I messed up, but considering I was used to it and was still living there for nothing while I went to school I didn’t really have anything to complain about. My birth control ran out about six months after I got there, and without you, the heats were...” He swallows hard at the memories of screaming and crying through the longest days of his life. “Bad’s an understatement. But again, Samuel came to the rescue. He told me all I had to do was take these other pills he got me from the doctor and they’d get better.” He can’t help the way his scent turns bitter and tears spring to his eyes even after all this time. “I was so stupid, Cas. I just - I just took them without even checking what they were or what they’d do to me, and - and when my heats slowed down to two and then only one a year, well, I thought I was better off that way anyway since it’s not like I was trying to get knocked up. Made school easier, nobody had to listen to me scream until I lost my voice; it was better all around. I fucking thanked him,” Dean says hoarsely.

Cas’s hand strokes the hair at the back of his neck, and the comforting touch is enough to help him keep going. “I kept writing to you. A bunch at first, then a few times a month, and then when you weren’t answering me, it was more like once a month until I realized you either weren’t getting them or didn’t want to talk to me. I always hoped it was that you weren’t getting them, but I never really knew. Anyway, it took four years to do my apprenticeship to become a machinist, and by that time, Sammy finished high school and wanted to go into law. He got a free ride to KU, and I was so fucking proud of him. But it turns out it takes for-fucking-ever to become a lawyer and law school’s like -”

“Seven years,” Cas finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Dean says on a breathy exhale. “Soon as Sammy got out of high school and I got a full-time job, me and him got our own place. I knew once he started school for law that it was gonna take forever, and I was desperate to find you before that happened because even though Sam was older then, he was still only 17 and he never made friends again the way he did here. Don’t even think he tried, honestly. He was a loner, and even though he turned out to be an alpha, I still felt like it was my job to take care of him. I still - I couldn’t leave him behind, Cas,” Dean says quietly, hating himself for having to admit that he chose Sam again. “That’s when I started writing to you again, Googling, searching social media. I, uh, even considered hiring a private investigator but Sam told me it was too weird,” he says with a sideways smile. “Then, well, I was... 23 the first year I didn’t get a heat at all. I was so busy with work that I didn’t even notice at first. Then I started getting these cramps,” he whispers. “Ignored them at first because I was always in pain anyway. I dunno if you were the same, but that itchy feeling never really went away, and anytime I smelled anything that reminded me of you - which was a lot, by the way - it felt like a kick to the gut and it would just knock the breath out of me.”

“Dean,” Cas says sadly, stroking his back lovingly now too.

“So I figured that was what the cramps were all about. But they got so bad a year later that I passed out one day at work. Company rushed me to the hospital and - and that’s when I found out - the pills - they were too strong, weren’t supposed to be taken long-term - and I - the damage - I’d never - I couldn’t, I _can’t -”_

Cas shushes him quietly when he can’t keep talking through his tears. It’s been more than five years and he still can’t even get through it without crying like a fucking baby, but _finally,_ he has his alpha’s arms to cry in. He forgets all about how uncomfortable his arm is stuck between them when Cas pulls him in impossibly close, and he breathes in Cas’s scent while he cries for the pregnancies he’ll never experience, the round, swollen belly he’ll never have, the pups he’ll never birth and never be able to give his alpha. All because he was too stupid to ask his grandpa what he was taking and how it might affect his body.

“You weren’t stupid, Dean,” Cas says, his voice quiet but firm. “You had no reason to believe your own grandfather would give you medication that could affect you in that way. And I know I already told you this, but I love you just the same, pups or no pups. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this loss on your own before this, but anytime you want to talk about it now or in the future, I’ll listen,” he promises. “I’ll wipe your tears and tell you that it isn’t fair and that this shouldn’t have happened to you, and then I’ll remind you that you’re still perfect to me and absolutely everything I’ll ever need,” Cas assures him.

When he finally finds his voice again, he stays right where he is cradled to Cas’s chest and keeps going. If he and Cas are gonna work for real then he needs to suck it up and tell Cas the whole truth, even if he’s too chicken shit to look him in the face when he does it.

“Figured I was damaged goods by then. Wasn’t even fair of me to try to find you again and ask you to take me back when I can’t do the one thing omegas are supposed to be able to do for their alphas.”

“Dean, no. That’s not -”

“So I got drunk and slept with someone else.”

It’s not fair to feel like Dean just stabbed him straight through the heart, but that’s exactly how Castiel feels. He knows his scent sours even more, dark chocolate seeping into it to broadcast his anger before he can stomp it down, his inner alpha _livid_ that somebody else touched _his omega._

“Or at least that was the plan,” Dean continues. “I picked up the first beta who smiled at me. Blonde, leggy, great rack.” Castiel feels bile rise in his throat, his mind supplying unwelcome images of Dean’s lips traveling across somebody else’s skin, body parts he doesn’t have. “Made out with her, got her naked, got her horizontal, even made her get off a couple of times -”

“Dean,” Castiel grits out, a warning to stop, to _stop telling him this_ because he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the idea, the knowledge that somebody else, anybody else touched Dean the way only he was ever supposed to touch him.

“But I couldn’t go all the way. I couldn’t do it,” Dean finally finishes. “Couldn’t even keep it up,” he says quietly. “Told her I was too drunk, but honestly... it felt like cheating. I hadn’t seen you or heard from you or touched you in six years by then but I still loved you and so every time she touched me it felt all wrong.”

There’s a long pause where all they do is breathe. The hand that was stroking Dean’s hair has paused and the other on his back has fallen away to hang extended over the side of the couch. He doesn’t know what to feel. He knows what he does feel but he’s sure that isn’t fair. As Dean said, they hadn’t even spoken in years. For all Dean knew, he didn’t even want to speak with him.

“Please say something,” Dean whispers.

“I don’t know what to say. I know on a logical level it was ridiculous to expect - to hope, even - but when you said no other alpha had touched you, I suppose I just assumed...” He lets his words trail off, unsure what else he wants to say.

“I never slept with anybody else,” Dean tells him. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Cas. I tried _a lot_ but I could never go through with it.”

“I tried, too,” Castiel confesses, and he feels Dean turn stiff as a board in his arms at the same moment his scent burns hot. “I went out to a few bars with every intention of finding somebody to fuck countless times. Unlike you, I never got past kissing because all I could think of was how much better it felt with you, but I did try.”

A very heavy silence hangs between them for what feels like a long time. The air is charged with anger and hurt, their mingling scents both so furious and miserable that they’re likely only increasing the other’s distress.

“Did you feel like you were gonna barf and kinda like you wanted to punch something - maybe even me - when I first told you or is that just me overreacting?” Dean asks, his body still tense and his scent still burning hot.

“I don’t want to punch you, but I’d like to bend you over directly in front of every single person who ever touched you with more than a friendly pat on the back and fuck you into next week to show them _you’re my omega_ before I methodically rip out each and every one of their throats.”

There’s an unmistakable surge of a strengthened brown sugar sweetness in the air, and another growl vibrates deep in his chest at the idea of his omega being aroused by him wanting to claim him.

Dean pushes away from his chest enough to look up at him with darkened green eyes. “Am I still your omega?” he asks, and Castiel is astonished to catch a whiff of fear and uncertainty in his scent now that his neck is exposed again.

The majority of his anger dissolves into nothing. “Always,” he says earnestly. “I’m so sorry I made you doubt that for even a second. I’m not going to pretend that I’m pleased with what you’ve told me, but I don’t blame you. And you certainly shouldn’t feel like it was cheating on me, because although we loved each other, we weren’t really together.”

“Not like we broke up,” Dean points out.

“If you were 23 at the time, I think six years of not speaking with each other is enough to imply a break up,” Castiel says, forcing a small smile even though the words feel all wrong.

Dean screws his face up in clear distaste. “Is it weird I’d rather think of it as cheating on you than us breaking up? Still wanna think of myself as bein’ yours the whole time.”

“I certainly felt that way all along, so if that helps you, then you’re more than welcome to tell yourself that. As long as you don’t carry guilt for it.” Still seeing a little bit of sadness remaining in Dean’s eyes, he softens his voice and strokes his thumb along the back of his neck. “I love you, coffee bean. I’m sorry if I upset you at all.”

It’s astounding to him that even after all this time he can make the tension bleed out of Dean’s scent and his bones just with a few words. “Love you,” Dean answers, the corners of his lips turning up. Castiel wants more than anything to lean in and kiss him, but he still isn’t quite sure if that’s where they are right now. Pushing that down, he decides he wants to hear the rest of Dean’s story.

“So once Sam finished law school you came here?” he prompts.

“He just graduated in June,” Dean confirms. “Apparently it’s not that easy to just move into Canada now that everybody wants to get away from Trump, so it took longer than I thought it would to get permission to come back to the country, but we finally got it. Sam knew I stayed in Kansas all that time ‘cause of him and how much the last twelve years sucked for me, so when I told him I was ready to come back here for you, he said it was only fair he follow me back.”

“How did you go from not wanting to tie me to you because you can’t have pups to coming back for me?”

Dean shrugs a single shoulder. “Sounds lame but I think I always knew deep down I was coming back. People kept telling me I was crazy for thinking you’d still want me after all this time and I tried to believe them a time or two, tried to convince myself I wasn’t good enough for you so I didn’t have to worry about what might happen to me if I came back here and they were right, but honestly... I was always coming back.”

“I was always waiting for you,” Castiel tells him just as honestly. “When Gabriel made his first million and asked me where I wanted a house, I purposely picked Oak Haven and Crystal Lake thinking that if you ever came back this might be one of the first places you looked.”

“Never would’ve guessed I’d actually find you in a snowbank,” Dean jokes, and Castiel allows his smile to come easily. “Or that I’d be forced into a second heat a month after my last one when I only get one a year now that my body knows there’s no point.”

“Your body also knows its true mate and the very best way to break his will power,” Castiel reminds him, and it’s absolutely adorable the way Dean’s scent turns bright and happy between one breath and the next. Castiel closes his eyes and drinks it in, letting it chase away any remaining dregs of unhappiness, feeling it fill him up with joy like air in a balloon. “I swear nothing has ever smelled as good as you. If I lived the rest of my life with my nose directly against your scent gland I would be a very happy man.”

“Mmmm,” Dean replies, humming his agreement. “You’ve dealt with enough unhappiness to last you a lifetime. I say let’s do it.”

Castiel smiles as he continues to breathe in his gourmet coffee scent, but Dean’s words remind him he hasn’t told his full story yet. “I still have things I’d like to tell you about my mother and Gabriel from when we were younger, the plea bargain, and those kinds of things, but would you mind if we table it for now? You just - you smell so happy, Dean, and I don’t want to bring you down again.”

“I get that,” Dean says quietly. “But I say we do it like a band-aid. Do it quick and get it over with now so we can fucking finally start living our happily ever after.”

Castiel nods gently. “Okay. I suppose I’ll start with my arrest then.” So he walks him through that experience, and as soon as Dean asks what the arresting officer’s name was, they realize it was the same cop who escorted Dean out of his apartment that made the arrest. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“It’s all my fault,” Dean says in a hoarse whisper. “I forgot ‘til now, but Samuel said if I gave the cop your last name he’d come tell you why I had to leave, but he - he just came and arrested you!”

Castiel feels a pang as the truth settles inside of him. He always wondered how the police found out about them. “Even if you didn’t tell him, I’m sure he would have figured it out. It’s not as if there are many Castiels in South River.”

“But still! I told him how old you were and that you were my alpha and even gave him your last name. I led him right to your door!”

“Dean, stop, please,” Castiel says firmly, smelling his mounting panic. “Neither of us knew it was illegal. You did nothing wrong by telling him about me. Obviously had you known, you wouldn’t have. We both know that. The blame here is not yours.”

“Still feel like shit,” Dean spits out.

“Don’t.” Dean huffs bitterly. “This isn’t even the part I thought would upset you.”

He watches while Dean takes a deliberate breath and relaxes his features. His scent stays just as bitter as it was, but he’s obviously trying to convey a calm he doesn’t feel. “I can take it, whatever it is. Like a band-aid.”

“Well, you mentioned experiencing pain after we were separated... I suppose it makes sense now knowing we scent bonded and it was likely withdrawals from one another and our bodies’ way to tell us we shouldn’t have been separated.”

“Like we didn’t already know,” Dean adds dryly.

“After I plead guilty to stay out of jail, I was in a great deal of pain which ultimately left me depressed. Understandably so, I thought, considering I lost my omega, my job, and any hope for the future I was dreaming of all at the same time. My mother disagreed, and after an examination with a doctor who I later discovered was only following my mother’s bidding and wallet, I was sent to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital because they said I was a threat to my own safety.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean says harshly. “You’d never do something like that. Right?” he tags on, his eyes going wide with fear.

“Of course not. I was miserable, but I was still waiting for you to come back. I’d never abandon you,” he assures Dean. “I was furious with my mother and at the entire situation. Beyond furious. They kept me for seven days. The whole time I wondered if you were back and I couldn’t see you. I wondered if they were ever going to let me go,” he admits. “Then when they finally did, my mother had already packed Gabriel up and moved him to a private school in Toronto. I gathered my things and left that day.”

“What a bitch,” Dean comments.

“Truly. Thankfully she didn’t cut me off right away, so I had enough money to get me through a few weeks at a seedy motel until I got my job at the Gas ‘n’ Sip and ultimately a very small apartment. Then of course when Gabriel finished school and turned 18, he moved to Vegas, and somehow struck gold in the porn industry.”

Dean chuckles lightly. “That’s still so amusing to me.”

Castiel feels his own lips turn up into an answering amused smile. “He’s known in the industry as Loki now, I doubt you’d find anything about Gabriel Milton if you looked.”

“I did,” Dean tells him. “Was like the both of you don’t even exist. Used to drive Sam the computer nerd crazy.” Then Dean surprises him by beginning to laugh in earnest. “Jesus,” he breathes out on a laugh. “I wish I was there to see Sam’s face when Gabe tells him he got rich from porn. My brother’s a fuckin’ prude in comparison.”

“Their friendship always was an unlikely one,” Castiel agrees.

“Figured they balanced each other out. Gabe the trouble maker and Sam the goody two shoes.”

“Mmm,” Castiel considers. “Sort of like your omega to my alpha.”

“Speaking of, I noticed you’re more growly now,” Dean says curiously.

“As I was saying, I didn’t have my omega to bring out my softer side to balance my inner alpha.” Because Dean preens at that, he taps him on the nose and laughs when Dean bats his hand away as his cheeks turn pink. “Besides that, I’ve been so lonely and miserable, practically dead on the inside for so long I haven’t really felt much of anything in the way of emotions for several years. Then my little menace came back and now I feel like I’ve been put through the emotional wringer of a lifetime in less than 24 hours,” he chuckles. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Dunno what you’d have to bitch about,” Dean says sarcastically. “You only crashed your car, found your long-lost love, was seduced into a knotting for the first time in 12 years, had six orgasms worked out of you, was walked out on, bullied by your little brother, reunited with yours truly _again,_ recapped twelve years of pretty terrible shit, _and_ found out we’re true mates. Was a pretty chill 24 hours if you ask me.”

“I’d go through it all a thousand times over if it means you’re here to stay,” Castiel says, a question laced between his words.

“I’m not going anywhere. Hell, I’d move in today if that wasn’t crazy fast,” Dean says, flashing him a teasing grin.

“Twelve years you’ve loved me and you’re still not ready to move in? At this rate, I’m going to be three hundred years old before you’re ready for my bite,” Castiel teases back.

Dean’s eyes light up with mirth, and apparently the years that have passed haven’t matured Dean’s sense of humor at all, because he knows exactly the kind of joke that’s on its way before the words even leave Dean’s mouth. “You’re turning 300 this year though, right, old man?”

Castiel pokes him in the ribs as retaliation, laughing when Dean squirms to get away and almost falls off of the couch. Thankfully, his arm underneath Dean holds him up, but that just means Castiel can poke him again. Dean tries to keep a straight face, but again, the laughter in his eyes gives him away, and he doesn’t seem to be able to keep his lips from quirking when he says, “Stop it.”

Castiel feigns innocence, widening his blue eyes to his advantage. “Stop what?”

“Don’t gimme those puppy dog eyes,” Dean threatens, poking him in the chest.

Castiel lifts his eyebrows in a clear challenge. “Or what?”

When he tries to poke him a third time, Dean catches his wrist on the way. “What are you, twelve?”

“Three hundred,” Castiel shoots back, using the hand that’s wrapped around his back to poke him on the other side of his body. This time, he allows the poke to turn into an actual tickle, and Dean’s reaction is not at all what he expected. He bursts out laughing, jerks in surprise, and rolls half way over to get away... landing on the floor next to the couch with a bang that makes Castiel wince.

He peeks over the side to make sure he’s okay, only to be greeted with the sight of Dean laughing so hard he isn’t even making sound anymore. He’s completely powerless about his own laughter joining Dean’s, and when Dean reaches up to grab him by the front of the shirt, he doesn’t even fight him off. Instead, he lets himself fall on top of Dean, just _barely_ avoiding kneeing his poor omega between his legs, which sets them both off into a new peal of laughter.

The happiness coming off of them both in waves is almost staggering it’s so pure. With each new intake of breath he can scent their growing contentment, bliss, elation, and euphoria in the air, and when their laughter finally stops and their eyes catch, he feels the same thing he felt that night in bed so long ago: an arrow straight through the heart and piercing his very soul with how much he loves this man underneath him.

Dean’s not the teenage boy he was back then, though. He’s a man now. Fully grown, bigger even than he is, every bit as intelligent as he always believed he was, successful the way he hoped he would be, and so much stronger than he ever could have imagined.

And he’s his mate.

Dean’s tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, and Castiel’s heart rate doubles as he tracks the movement. When he expected Dean to ask for a kiss, what he actually says - in a voice so small and shy he almost sounds like a ghost of his younger self - is, “Scent me?”

And what was left of his heart falls at Dean’s feet.

He leans in to drag his nose along his jaw. Where it used to be soft with a childlike roundness to it, it’s now a sharp slash prickling with stubble, and Castiel feels goosebumps rise along his arms and shoot down his back as it scrapes against his skin. And then he finds it, the same place he marked countless times in the past, once again covered with a bruise from earlier that morning, and he knows with absolute certainty that these few square inches of skin that are nearly drowning him in how happy Dean smells are the key to everything he’s ever wanted.

If it’s possible to scent a loved one in a worshiping way, to convey the way he’d gladly live at Dean’s feet for the rest of his life with a drag of his nose along his scent gland, that’s how he’d like to think he scents Dean now. Carefully, lovingly, reverently. _You are my everything-_ ly. _I will never leave you_ -ly. _Let me spend the rest of my life showing you how beautiful you are, inside and out-_ ly.

Years pass. Ages, maybe, and when he can finally tear himself away from the paradise that is his omega’s scent gland, his nose is wet from the tears that have fallen down Dean’s cheeks and rolled onto his neck. He wipes it on Dean’s sleeve, which gets a wet chuckle from him, and then he drops his forehead to Dean’s.

“I know you think you’re broken,” he tells him quietly, feeling like his heart is using his mouth as a conduit. “But I swear to you I will come to love the jagged pieces of who you believe you are now just as I loved you as a shiny, vibrant teenager. I will be here while you put yourself back together- I’ll help you if you want me to - and I’ll love you still once you’ve remade yourself into who you’ll be another ten years from now.”

Dean clears his throat, but his voice still comes out rough when he says, “You still say the sappiest shit.” His overwhelmingly happy scent softens his words and lets Castiel know he says them with affection.

“Will you stay, Dean, truly?” he asks. “Even when it’s hard and people tell us it’s wrong and we make mistakes and fight with one another. Will you stay with me until the end?”

“I’m yours, Cas. Always was. Always will be. Even when it’s hard and you nag me for leaving my socks on the floor and for drinking out of the milk carton and for picking the vegetables out of my food before I eat it -” Castiel scowls at that and Dean’s rough voice breaks into something between a laugh and a sob. “- I’m gonna stay.”

When their lips meet this time - not because of Dean’s heat and with no lies remaining between them - it’s like coming home for the first time in twelve years, and Castiel knows without a shred of doubt that he’ll never want to leave again.


	14. Chapter 14

**_2019_ **

Dean is way too old to be lying on a hard wooden floor, and considering Cas is even older than he is, he knows he gets it when he tells him he needs to get up while he still can. They wind up back on the couch, Cas leaning back against the arm of the couch and Dean between his legs with his back to Cas’s chest so that Cas can work on scent marking him thoroughly while they keep talking.

The conversation is (thankfully) lighter now. He tells Cas more about his job and how much he loves it, how Sam’s already accepted a job at a lawyer’s office in South River and how he’s got two job interviews set up at factories in town. While he can tell Cas is happy for him, it’s also pretty easy to see that talking about work bums him out, so Dean changes the subject and they start talking about hockey instead. He has to admit that he started cheering for Nashville a few years ago, which has Cas jokingly telling him to get out of his house. He swears to start cheering for Toronto again now that he’s back, and that earns him Cas’s nose back on his scent gland where it belongs.

As the late afternoon turns into evening, Cas offers to cook him dinner. Dean accepts, but only with the condition that Cas let him make dessert. So the two of them decide on lasagna and apple pie (Cas didn’t have much fruit in the house to work with), and they work side-by-side in Cas’s kitchen, both with small smiles on their faces that grow each time they catch each other’s eye, which is often. Each time they pass each other to move around the kitchen, hands slide along lower backs, kisses are pressed to cheeks, flour gets smeared across Cas’s cheek, and at one point, Cas stops what he’s doing entirely to wrap his arms around Dean from behind.

They stand there without moving, Dean leaning back against Cas’s chest, soaking in the warmth and comfort he’s always felt being in his alpha’s arms. When Cas’s dry lips brush his scent gland and leave a soft kiss there, a shiver runs up his spine and his eyes begin to water. He feels right, something he hasn’t felt since he was forced to leave so long ago, and it’s even better now that he knows how miserable it is to live without this feeling warming his insides.

“Missed you,” Dean says quietly.

“I missed you,” Cas answers. “Thank you for coming back.”

After a final squeeze and another kiss to the cheek, they open a bottle of red wine Cas said he’d been saving for a special occasion and eat at the little kitchen table with a single white candle burning as the centerpiece. They hold hands between bites and drink too much wine much too fast. Cas teases him for the way he still has terrible manners and says he reminds him of an adorable little chipmunk, and he gets Cas back after he lets him tell a long, drawn-out story with sauce stuck on the corner of his lip.

Even though Cas is currently scowling at him, Dean can’t wipe the starry-eyed look off of his face. He’s just so damn happy to be here like this with Cas. Sharing a simple meal they both helped make in the comfort of his alpha’s house is something he’s dreamed of for more than ten years and he finally really has it. If Cas meant everything he said earlier - and he knows he did - then this could be the first of a thousand dinners they have together just like this, and he’s pretty sure nothing would make him happier.

“You still smell extremely happy,” Cas comments.

“Better get used to it,” Dean replies. “This is like winning the lottery for me.”

“Surely my lasagna isn’t that good,” Cas says, smiling wide.

“Sam makes it with whole wheat noodles, so believe me, yours was like heaven compared to that,” Dean says matter of factly. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about, and I’m pretty sure you knew that.”

Cas pulls Dean’s hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, his stupidly blue eyes so filled with warmth he knows something sappy’s about to come out before it does. “I’m happy to share a meal with you, too. It’s feels almost silly now to admit how many times I’ve thought about this.”

“And? Did it live up to the hype?”

“It was better, as everything is with you,” Cas says smoothly.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Dean quips, earning a small laugh from Cas. “Did you save room for pie?”

Cas leans back in his chair as he hums his indecision, rubbing his hands over his stomach and inexplicably causing desire to thrum through Dean as he watches. Cas looks damn good, every bit as attractive now at 34 with grey at his temples as he did at 22, and the happiness wafting off of him is enough to draw Dean to him like a moth to flame. Literally. He pushes away from the table and forces Cas’s chair back just enough so that he can climb into his lap and bend down to scent his alpha. His hands sink into Cas’s soft hair as he rubs his nose and then his cheek along his alpha’s scent gland, echoing Cas’s pleased hum when his big hands settle onto his hips.

Cas’s scent turning buttery and hot is all the encouragement he needs to turn his scenting into wet kisses down the corded muscle of his neck and back up his throat. He scrapes his teeth against the bolt of his jaw and makes a quiet sound of pleasure when Cas’s hands slide down to his ass. He drags his lips up to the shell of Cas’s ear, breathing hot against it before taking it between his teeth. “I say,” Dean starts, running his tongue along the sensitive lobe, “we save the pie to celebrate.”

Cas cups his ass cheeks, kneading them in his palms and making Dean’s breath come out hard and needy. “What are we celebrating?”

Dean nips his way along his alpha’s jaw and places a teasing, lingering kiss just at the corner of his mouth. “You giving me your mating bite.”

A low rumble begins in Cas’s chest, igniting his own desire like a match thrown onto gasoline. “Tonight?”

Dean wets his lips nervously as he leans back enough to look Cas in the face. “You wanna wait?”

“I want you to be sure,” Cas replies.

He keeps his face carefully blank. “Are _you_ sure?”

“I’ve been sure since I almost bit you the first time.”

Dean smiles at the memory, feeling his nerves evaporate just like that. “Would’ve let you then, still want it now. I’m sure, too.”

Cas nods. “Seeing as I’ve already regretted not doing it twice, I’m not about to let a third time pass me by. I want to make you mine.”

“Here work for you?” Dean jokes, and Cas laughs heartily.

Cas's eyes turn from playful to liquid hot when Dean shifts in his lap, though, especially since he purposely lets the growing bulge beneath him rub against his ass. “I can guarantee this chair will never survive all of the things I want to do to you tonight," Cas says.

“Take me to bed then, alpha,” Dean replies, doing nothing to keep the low, sultry tone out of his voice.

Without another word, Cas surges to his feet with him in his arms, and he automatically wraps his legs around his waist just like he did when he was a teenager. Dean’s voice comes out on a surprised, breathless, _“Fuck,”_ when he realizes this is more proof of how incredibly strong and sexy his alpha is. Dean is _not_ a small guy anymore, and Cas is carrying him through the fucking kitchen like he doesn’t weigh a thing.

Needing to do _something_ besides pop a boner and slick in his boxers, he lowers his mouth to Cas’s neck, and when the increased scent of arousal hits his nostrils he feels the tell-tale warmth of his ass really starting to leak in response.

 _“Dean.”_ The sound of his name on Cas’s lips only turns him on more.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Dean tells him. “Want you.” He groans with how much he wants it. “Jesus, I already want you again so bad.”

Cas stops in the hallway, pressing Dean up against the wall to ravage his mouth and press his now fully hard cock to the swell of Dean’s eager ass again and again. Cas’s hands wander while his hips pin him to the wall, palms pawing and fingers groping hot and possessive until they’re both panting.

“I’ll make love to you every day for the rest of my life,” Cas promises him. “Worship every inch of you with my hands and my mouth. Show you how beautiful and perfect and unbelievably sexy you are.”

Dean squeezes his eyes closed as heat races through him. “Once a day ain’t gonna cut it. Never did. And we’ve got -” His voice cuts off when Cas closes his teeth around his nipple through his shirt. “Fuck. Just - just do it, right here, Cas. Against the wall,” he begs him, feeling like fire is coursing through him. “Show me what a strong alpha you are.” Another growl is let loose and Dean whimpers when Cas’s fingers go for his fly, popping the button and dragging down the zipper. “Yes, yes, yes,” Dean chants, leaning in to catch his lips in another scalding kiss. Cas kisses him back twice as hard, his teeth pressing sharply into his lips and his hands impatiently grabbing at his pants to push them down. Cas has never been this rough or rushed with him before, and his inner omega is smug as fuck knowing that he _finally_ drove his alpha to lose control.

As Cas’s hand frees him from his boxers, Dean moans into his mouth, bucking into the hand that closes around his cock and pumps it roughly. “In - in me,” he rasps against Cas’s lips, and then his back bows right off of the wall when two thick fingers shove deep inside of him. Pleasure is like an electric current, shooting through him so strong it’s like a shock to his whole system. He bares his neck instinctively, breaking their kiss, and calls out wildly when he feels teeth on his scent gland. “Bite me. Fuck me. Come on, alpha, _claim me,”_ he urges him.

Cas’s growl is officially the hottest thing in the damn world, and Dean’s sure he’s about to come just on his fingers as he spears them inside of him again and again. He does what he can to roll his hips down, asking Cas silently for it faster, rougher. He’s so fucking wet he’s damn near leaking, the scent of Cas’s arousal hot in the air mingling with his own, the blueberry coffee scent driving him that much closer to the edge just from the memories it plies him with. Cas pushes in a third finger and he shouts his approval. _“Yes!”_ when suddenly, his heart thuds at the sound of a knock on the door. Cas freezes, his shoulders heaving, and Dean pulls his hair until his head is tipped back and they lock eyes. “Whoever it is can wait. I need you, Cas,” he says passionately.

Cas's eyes are wild when he nods and plunges his fingers inside of him again, making Dean thump his head back against the wall while he rocks his hips down against his alpha’s thick fingers. It’s not what he wants, though. He wants more, he wants Cas buried to the hilt and his knot stretching him so fucking full, the way only Cas ever gets him full, and he wants his teeth sinking into his neck and mating him for life. Preferably, all in the next thirty seconds.

Like Cas can hear his thoughts, his mouth comes back to his neck and Dean fists his hand in his hair, holding him right where he wants him. Cas’s fingers rub against his prostate and Dean feels the electric buzz of pleasure ricochet through him once more. He starts riding the wave as Cas hits that spot again and again. His fingers tighten even more in Cas’s hair, and he’s so damn close already. The possessive edge of Cas’s touches and the promise of his bite sharp on his neck bonding them together forever - _mine, mine, mine -_ drives him there faster than ever,and his mouth opens with a silent shout as he feels himself reaching his peak. His ass clenches, finger nails dig into Cas’s scalp, and he holds his breath as it builds and builds and builds and -

“Ready or not, here I -”

Dean's release hits him so strong he feels like he's shattering as he comes with an indignant squawk as Gabe’s voice echoes through the room.

“What the -” is all Sam gets out before Cas whirls on him. Dean’s ass is still clenching rhythmically around the fingers buried deep in his ass as Dean spurts hot and wet all over their clothes. His mind knows they should stop but his body isn’t catching on fast enough, and he can’t hold in another sound of pleasure when he hears the most feral, most sexy snarl come out of Cas that he’s ever heard as Cas attempts to hide him from their brothers and defend his omega.

“Get out. _Now!”_ Cas growls, and for the first time in his life Gabe actually listens, pushing a growling Sam out the door with him. Dean’s still reeling, his ass damn near dripping slick from watching Cas protect him like that. His body is primed for more, and he’s trying to get his damn head on straight even as he keeps fucking himself on Cas’s fingers.

Cas catches his lips in a brutal kiss, stealing the rest of his breath right from his lungs, and Dean wraps his arms around his neck and sinks into it, happy to give his alpha anything he needs after a display like that. When their lips finally wrench apart, Cas sucks hard on his scent gland and Dean’s eyes roll up into the back of his head as he feels even more slick coat Cas’s fingers.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean breathes. “That was fucking amazing, but I - I just came in front of both our brothers,” he chuckles, embarrassment starting to creep in now that he says it out loud.

That’s when he notices Cas is stiff as a board though, but his blueberry scent is stronger than ever, absolutely pumping into the air around them to mark both Dean and his territory.

He smells so damn good, Dean goes to move forward, trying to get closer to the mouthwatering scent, but Cas stops him with a sharp, _“Don't.”_ Dean flinches, not sure what he did to deserve Cas talking to him like that, and because he’s sure Cas has _never_ talked to him like that, he doesn’t really know what to do. He waits a few seconds, then tries to move his hand from around the back of Cas’s neck to his face to comfort him, but Cas growls again. _“Don’t move,_ Dean. I mean it. Just - just give me a second to get control. I’m barely hanging on. _Please_ don’t move.”

Concerned now, Dean softens his voice and says, “Alpha? Come on, Cas. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Another alpha,” Cas says through gritted teeth. “We were - I was going to -” Another growl interrupts him and Dean bares his neck and drops his eyes in submission, inviting his alpha into his space to help him calm down. It’s an invitation Cas takes, and it’s only after he scents him repeatedly and more firmly than ever before that he actually starts to come back to himself. “Another alpha interrupted me attempting to claim my half naked mate,” he finally explains, his voice low and rough (and pressing way too many of Dean’s buttons than he should be considering their brothers are waiting to come back inside). “I knew once I saw him that it was Sam and I know he didn’t mean to interrupt at that moment but my inner alpha still wants to go out there and...”

As that sinks in, the remaining stress leaves Dean’s body. He knows Cas would never hurt Sam because Cas knows that would hurt him, and Cas would _never_ hurt him. He turns his head back to face Cas and leans in to kiss him gently, running his hands softly through his hair and pumping out as many calming, soothing pheromones as he can until he feels him start to relax against him.

“You’re my alpha,” Dean says quietly, feeling like he needs to stroke his ego a little bit. “Sam’s an alpha but he’s just my brother. You’re the only one with a scent bond with me, you’re the only person I’ve ever loved, and you’re the one who just made me come in record time outside of a heat. _A_ _nd_ you still have your fingers in my ass,” he reminds him, his lips turning up into a teasing smile.

Cas is still taking deliberate deep breaths. “Sam was growling when Gabriel dragged him out of here. If he challenges me -”

“He won’t,” Dean says firmly. “He knows I’m yours. He came here with me to help me find you. He was probably just caught off guard seein’ us like that. And not that I’m complaining ‘cause it obviously worked for me, but you were being rougher than usual. Can’t really blame him for his reaction.”

“But you blame me for mine?” Cas snaps, and Dean frowns before he lets out a long breath, searching for patience.

“Can you take your fingers outta my ass so I can stand up?” Cas doesn’t look overly pleased, but does as he asks, and Dean gets to his feet and tucks himself back into his pants. Though he still has cum all over him, he feels more suited to have an actual conversation now than he did a second ago. Willing himself to stay patient, he loops his arms around Cas’s neck and brings their foreheads together. “I’m not blaming you, alpha. I’m just asking you not to fight with my brother.” When Cas still doesn’t relax entirely, he plays his trump card. “It would really suck for me to see you two trying to hurt each other. Please don’t do that to me, Cas,” he whispers.

Cas’s eyes widen and then soften in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, sweet omega.” Cas nuzzles their noses together and cups his face, kissing him tenderly in another apology. “I don’t _want_ to fight with him. I missed him, too,” Cas answers him softly. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“Hey, if another omega walked in here when you were about to knot me I woulda lost my shit, too,” Dean admits. “I get that it was your instinct to protect me and I’m not mad, okay? Just want the real you to come back to me.”

“I’m still sorry I reacted like that, and I’m sorry for taking it out on you. Sam probably won’t be very pleased to see me after that,” he says sheepishly.

Dean laughs lightly. “If anybody gets going alpha and then being annoyed with himself after, it’s Sammy. And who cares anyway? You don’t need his blessing to bite me later.”

Cas leans in for one more kiss. “I’ll try harder not to lose my temper. I don’t want to be like that, especially not with you, coffee bean.”

Dean’s lips quirk at the endearment. “It’s been a hell of a day. I get it. I know you’re not some crazy alpha knothead.”

“I think I’m closer now than I was before,” Cas admits.

“Well I’ll just have to whip your ass back into shape then, old man,” Dean says threateningly, and when Cas’s lips turn up into an amused smile, he knows he’s got him back to normal. “I know your possessive alpha ass probably wants to keep me covered in jizz for when we let them back in, but do you mind if I borrow a shirt?”

Cas glances down at his own with a grimace. “It looks like we both need to change.”

Knowing that Sam and Gabe are outside waiting for them, they hurry into Cas’s room (which still smells like heat and sex) and swap out their soiled shirts for new ones. Cas keeps smiling at him like he’s thinking of something funny and he finally asks what it is after Cas tugs his new shirt over his head.

Cas shrugs and says, “I was just thinking that my shirt doesn’t go halfway down to your knees anymore, that’s all.”

Dean feels a pang at the reminder of how much Cas loved his smaller body and tries to play it off with, “Sorry for the let down.”

Cas tilts his head and approaches him from behind, wrapping his arms around him just like he did in the kitchen, and drops his nose to his scent gland. “I’m not disappointed. I think you’re just as perfect now as you were before.”

Dean scoffs, trying to act like this isn’t something he’s lost sleep over for years. “You liked that I was smaller than you. I know you never said, but I could tell by the way you looked at me sometimes and how much you liked manhandling me in bed.”

“I did like it. I loved to see your tiny little body taking every inch of me like you were built for it, but to be honest with you, I tried not to linger on those thoughts too much because it reminded me of the age gap between us and made me feel kind of pervy." Cas says with a smile he can hear in his voice that has him answering it with a reluctant smile of his own. “But that doesn’t mean I’m any less attracted to you now. In fact - I’m not sure you’re going to like this - but it’s incredibly hot to see and feel my omega, who is undoubtedly taller and more muscular than even I am now, still submit to me so easily. In fact, it may be even more arousing than when you were so small and powerless.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, trying not to sound overly hopeful.

“Mmmhmm,” Cas answers, placing soft, dry kisses along his neck. “I was going to fuck you against the wall in the hallway because I couldn’t wait to take another thirty steps to get you horizontal,” he reminds him, which has Dean chuckling quietly.

He knows it’s a dick move, but he slips his hands behind his back and down to rub over Cas’s crotch where he is very clearly still hard. “Kinda left you hanging back there.” He turns in Cas’s arms and drags his palm over his thickening cock. “How fast do you think I can get you off so you don’t have to deal with blue balls _and_ our brothers?”

Cas lets out a long, shaky breath. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m an old man now, remember? And if you want my knot later, I think we had better wait so there’s no disappointment.”

He can’t help his own quiet peal of laughter, feeling incredibly smug by the increased desire evident in Cas’s scent. “It’s cute that you think I can’t get you hard again later when I made you come six times earlier.”

“I’m sure I’ll live in a semi-aroused state for the rest of my life once we’re mated,” Cas replies blithely. “But again, I’d like to actually live through it.”

“You’re the boss,” Dean says, and Cas snorts with laughter.

“I’ll remind you that you said that later.”

“Hope so,” Dean says, turning towards the door with a cheeky wink. Cas groans pitifully as he follows him out of the bedroom and Dean’s still grinning when Cas’s hands are placed firmly on his hips when he pulls the door open.

Gabe and Sam are sitting in Sam’s SUV, so he waves them in, and he and Cas go wait for them in the living room. Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders and Dean scooches down on the couch until his head is resting on the crook of his shoulder, and he’s smiling and feeling like a big ole cat when Cas presses a kiss to the side of his head.

“I love you,” Cas tells him.

Dean feels like he’s glowing from the inside out. “Love you too, alpha.”

They both hear the front door open and close, but don’t make any attempt to move away from one another until Sam and Gabriel walk into the room. Castiel can hardly believe his eyes as Sam’s gigantic frame becomes visible. He only got a short glimpse of him earlier because he was too worried about protecting Dean and his modesty, but now he pulls his arm away from Dean and gets to his feet eagerly.

He’s truly overcome with emotion seeing Sam standing in his house right before his eyes, fully grown into a man. Sam was a pup the last time he saw him and now look at him! He’s even taller than Dean! He can’t help the grin that splits his face or the way his throat clogs up with grief over missing the boy who was beginning to feel like his little brother growing up, but because he’s unsure how Sam will react to being approached by another alpha, he offers his hand for a handshake.

Thankfully, the smile Sam gives him back is just as big, and their handshake quickly turns into a tight, back slapping hug. Sam smells like cucumber more than anything, and as the secondary scent of _family_ hits his nostrils, he lets out a gruff sounding, “It’s so good to see you, Sam.”

“I missed you, man,” Sam answers, and he’s surprised to hear there’s so much emotion in his voice, too. Sam lowers his nose a little bit closer to his scent gland and it’s a testament to just how comfortable he feels with Sam already (still?) that he doesn’t feel threatened by having another alpha this close to it. “God, you - you smell like family, Cas,” Sam adds breathlessly, and Castiel can’t help the way he hugs him just a little bit tighter for that.

“He does?” Dean says, sounding surprised.

Sam’s still clinging to him though, and Castiel can feel his shoulders rise as he inhales his scent once more and nods. “Yeah, he does,” Sam confirms.

“You do, too,” Castiel says roughly, not wanting Sam to think their familial bond is one-sided. Then, just as he would do with Gabriel after not seeing him for ten years, he draws Sam away from him and smiles fondly as he ruffles his hair playfully.

Sam’s laughing and fixing his hair with unshed tears glistening in his eyes when Castiel tries to lighten the mood. “You just had to go outgrow your brother, eh?”

Sam nods and tucks his hair behind his ears with a watery smile. “Had to look out for him, you know.”

He’s sure that isn’t meant to be the jab to his ego that it feels like, so he swallows that down and replies sincerely. “Thank you for taking care of Dean when I couldn’t.”

“I can take care of my own damn self, thank you very much,” Dean says, but he can tell by his tone of voice that he’s not actually mad. He’s far from it. In fact, Castiel can scent the happiness pouring off of him like somebody just brewed a new pot of coffee even from where he stands.

Gabriel makes his first contribution to the conversation with, “Don’t bother tryin’ to hide it now, Dean-o. We got front row seats to just how easily Cassie can take care of you when you two were bumping uglies when we walked in." Castiel glances over at him to see Gabriel smirking from the love seat he’s sprawled on.

“Yeah, great timing, by the way. Really appreciated the interruption,” Dean says sarcastically as Castiel settles back next to him with a huff of laughter. Dean beams at him when he kisses him on the cheek.

Gabriel just keeps grinning at the two of them. “Pretty sure you’re gonna be eating your words any minute now, pretty boy.”

“I doubt that,” Dean answers.

“Hey, Cas, what happened to your head?” Sam asks curiously.

“Oh,” Castiel answers, lifting his hand to the small cut there. “I got into a small accident because of the road conditions last night.”

Sam looks at Dean suspiciously. “And I’m sure that has nothing to do with why you didn’t come home until this morning?”

“What, you think I just so happened to come to his rescue or something? Come on,” Dean scoffs. “Life ain’t a chick flick, Sammy.” Castiel can’t help his low chuckle or the way he smiles at Dean. He loves him so much.

“Anyway,” Sam says, getting everybody’s attention as he squeezes in next to Gabriel. “Gabe kinda caught me up about the last ten years and why we haven't heard from either of you all that time. He also told me about your arrest, and get this: it’s complete crap.” When Castiel looks at him in confusion, Sam just smiles wider. “I studied a similar case in law school, so I started doing some research -”

“Yeah,” Gabriel huffs. “Haven’t seen him in twelve years, he answers the door of an empty hotel room looking _like that,_ and instead of letting me climb him like a ladder, we did _research.”_

Dean snorts with laughter next to him, which turns into a genuine belly laugh a second later, likely brought on by the pinched look on Sam’s extremely red face.

“I already told you -” Sam begins in a hushed whisper.

“Yeah, we’ll see how long you can resist this,” Gabriel says cockily, reclining even more in his seat and gesturing to his body. Castiel glances at Dean, who doesn’t seem to be able to stop laughing.

He gives him a confused look and Dean shrugs and whispers, “He’s straight. This is hilarious.”

“Anyway,” Sam says again, more loudly this time. “You guys have a scent bond that hasn’t broken in twelve years, so you obviously already figured out you’re true mates.”

“We think we are, yeah,” Dean answers for both of them.

“Thankfully, it’s a simple matter of a DNA test to prove that for real, and if you are, Cas can’t be charged for Sexual Interference with a Minor,” Sam says with a wide grin. “I can get the charges dropped no problem.”

Castiel’s brain is having a hard time making his mouth form words. He's never even dared to hope for something like this. How is this even possible?

“What? How?” Dean asks, stealing the words right out of his brain.

“As soon as both people are over the age of consent with true mates, nothing else applies, including age gaps. True mates supersedes all other laws,” Sam explains.

Dean’s looking at him with excitement, but he feels peculiarly empty. “Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible, it’s true,” Sam insists. “I took a screencap of the section in the criminal code when we were looking it up. Look.” Sam hands Dean his phone, and Dean holds it between them so he and Dean can both read it. He’s no lawyer, but there it is, clear as can be even to him.

“How did my lawyer not know that?” Castiel asks. “He didn't even ask about true mates. He had to have been one of the most competent lawyer’s available or my mother never would have hired -” But then he stops mid-sentence and the scent of rotten fruit fills the air as a terrible, horrible, extremely possible thought occurs to him.

“You think she did this on purpose?” Dean asks quietly.

“I hate to think it,” Castiel says breathlessly. “But knowing that she knew about the postcard you sent me and never told me about it on top of having me locked up and sending Gabriel away...” Dean rubs his knee comfortingly as he tries to think back through the fog of loss he was feeling when he signed the plea bargain. “She was the one who convinced me to sign the plea bargain in the first place. I wasn’t going to sign it but she said -” He doesn’t finish that sentence, knowing that Dean would blame himself if he knew Castiel signed because of him. “She convinced me to sign it.”

“Oh, this is fucking _it,”_ Gabriel snarls. “I’m going to crush her like a bug.”

Castiel looks over at him as he suddenly remembers he’s there. “Do you think she would have done this on purpose?” he asks him.

Gabriel laughs humorlessly. “Sounds just like mommy dearest, doesn’t it? And we already know she’s greased the pockets of doctors to get what she wants when it comes to you, so it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that smarmy lawyer was in on it. I never liked the look of his stupid face.”

“Neither did I, especially after what he said about Dean,” Castiel says, his tone of voice murderous as he recalls exactly how disgusting the older man had been.

“What’d he say?” Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head, unwilling to say such disgusting things about Dean aloud. “Nothing worth repeating, little bean.”

“I don’t know if he was in on it or not," Sam tells them all, "and I wish I knew this happened to you sooner so I could’ve fixed it for you, because there’s absolutely no doubt about the law here." Then, looking just at he and Dean, he adds, “As long as you are true mates.”

“And you can really tell with a DNA test?” Castiel asks, intrigued by the idea of science playing a part in all of this. “I thought the entire notion of true mates was a myth until earlier today.”

Sam smiles at him. “Nope, it’s true. It can be proved scientifically as long as you both have the gene and are willing to send a statement saying your relationship was consensual.”

“Of course we will,” Dean says for both of them.

Sam’s smile grows into something so confident it's almost wolfish. “Good, because I already filed an appeal.”

On one hand, Castiel feels hope for his career for the first time in a dozen years, but on the other hand, he doesn’t have the funds to hire a successful lawyer like Sam must be. “Sam, I appreciate you doing this so much, but I don’t have the disposable income for lawyers fees right now,” Castiel says, turning pink with embarrassment at having to admit that in front of everybody.

Sam tilts his head and pins him with an unimpressed look. “Cas, we’re family. You don’t pay for this stuff, same as Dean.”

He’s about to open his mouth to disagree with that, but Gabriel beats him to it. “You know, I occasionally find my business in legal trouble,” he comments.

Dean snorts. “I bet you do.” The familiarity of Dean and Gabriel sniping at each other makes him incredibly happy, and he slips his fingers between Dean’s on his lap, which causes his omega’s scent to spike with happiness as well.

“Just saying, I could use a tall, dark, and handsome lawyer I know I could trust,” Gabe says nonchalantly.

Sam’s voice is dripping with sarcasm when he responds, “It’s just too bad you live all the way in Vegas.”

“I’m flexible." Gabe’s smile flashes quick and bright. "In more ways than one.”

Dean chokes on his laughter as Sam rolls his eyes and turns red as a tomato once again.

“Gabriel that’s enough,” Castiel says tiredly. “He said no, so stop making him uncomfortable.”

“He doesn’t _smell_ uncomfortable,” Gabe says smugly.

“Yes well, you’re a beta, and while there are many things you excel at because of that, your nose isn’t exactly unfailable,” Castiel tries to point out gently.

“Pfft. Knew what you smelled like before you did,” Gabriel shoots back.

“Which reminds me, we figured that out, too,” Sam discloses.

That’s intriguing, and he ignores Gabriel's comment in order to question him further. “You know why we can’t smell our own scent bond?”

Sam nods and then launches into an explanation about how unintentional scent bonds usually happen so gradually that the two participants don’t realize it’s happening. When he frowns in disbelief, Sam says the text he read compares it to how you get used to the scent of your house while you’re there and don’t even smell it, then come home from vacation and it’s suddenly all you can smell.

There’s a flaw in that explanation, though. “But even after we were apart for so long I couldn’t smell myself on him,” Castiel says.

Sam shrugs. “I don't know. Maybe you’re so used to smelling yourself in your house you just didn’t realize it was on Dean, too.”

“Either that or you were just fucked up from smacking your head,” Dean suggests.

“And then Dean went into heat, right? Not like you’d be thinking clearly then either,” Gabriel offers.

“Yeah, your true mate in heat would definitely overpower any other scent for you, Cas,” Sam agrees.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Castiel relents, though he's still not entirely convinced. “We really smell like each other?” he asks both of their brothers now that they’re all together.

“Always have,” Sam confirms. “Maybe that’s why your scent reminds me of family.”

“Or maybe he’s the only alpha you’ve ever had a positive relationship with,” Dean says, making Castiel flush.

Sam looks away, but he has a smile on his face. “Didn’t think I was following you to another country just for you, did you?”

“We all know you came back for me, Samsquatch, just admit it,” Gabriel interjects.

“You wish,” Sam shoots back, and Gabriel crows with laughter. Sam huffs in disbelief. “How’d I ever put up with you when we were kids anyway?”

“Easy, the stick wasn’t so far up your ass back then. But don’t worry, big guy, I’ll help you get it out again,” Gabriel says, leaning his head on Sam’s shoulder and batting his eyelashes at him.

Sam pushes him off by his face and Dean’s snickering at them as he snuggles in even closer to Castiel. Castiel takes a look around his living room, which is as full of people as he’s ever had it, and most importantly, holds the three most important people in his life. He kisses the top of Dean’s head, and as a thought comes to him, he feels a smile spread across his face.

“Toronto plays New York tonight. Game started at seven. Would you two like to stay and watch it with us?”

Sam looks at Dean, who shrugs. “You guys don’t have any plans?” he checks, and Castiel winces when he remembers what he and Dean were going to do before they got here.

“Nothing that can’t wait ‘til you leave,” Dean answers, squeezing Castiel’s hand reassuringly.

“I’m in,” Sam says with a big smile. “Be just like when we were kids.”

“When _you_ were kids,” Castiel corrects, teasing him. “If you ask Dean, he’ll tell you I was an old man even back then.”

“Yeah, an old man he never stopped pining over,” Sam says with a chuckle.

Dean opens his mouth like he's about to argue, then shrugs. “He ain’t wrong, even if he is a little shit.”

Castiel laughs lightly. “Well, nothing goes better with hockey than beer. Now that we’re all actually of age, would anybody like one? Or pop or water?”

“Beer me,” Gabriel answers.

“Always room for beer and pie,” Dean recites, then he sits up straighter and looks at Castiel with wide eyes. “Holy shit, we forgot about the pie!”

“Beer and pie it is then,” Castiel smiles, giving Dean a slight tap on the leg to ask him to get out of the way so he can get up.

As he gets to his feet, Sam does, too. “I’ll give you a hand.”

“Suck up,” Dean says under his breath. Castiel gives him a light swat on the back of the head as he walks by and Dean and Gabriel’s combined laughter ushers him and Sam into the kitchen.

“Beer in the fridge?” Sam guesses.

“Yes. I only have the cheap stuff though,” he warns him.

“That’s all Dean drinks anyway, and beer is beer. I'll drink anything,” Sam says easily, grabbing a few bottles and placing them on the kitchen table before going in for more.

“Congratulations on finishing law school, by the way,” Castiel says now that he has the opportunity. He grabs a knife from the wooden block and (knowing his guests as he does) begins slicing the pie into four large pieces. “I always knew you’d be successful with how bright you were as a pup.”

“Thanks,” Sam says simply. “It was a lot of work but it’s worth it for the chance to help people, you know?”

“Like me?”

“Yeah, as long as you and Dean are true mates you’ll be off the hook,” Sam says again. “But listen. Even if you’re not, I hope you know this charge is bullshit.” Castiel stops cutting the pie to turn to face him. “I was there. I watched you turn him away when you were in a rut _and_ when he was in heat and literally begging for you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never did.”

Castiel takes a deep breath and nods while he works on swallowing the lump in his throat. Hearing Dean tell him he did nothing wrong was appreciated, of course, but because Dean loved him and was just as clouded with lust and hormones as Castiel had been at the time, it’s not quite the same as having Sam say it when he has absolutely nothing to gain from it either way.

“It ruined my life anyway,” Castiel manages to say.

“And I’m telling you that’s bullshit,” Sam repeats. “I can't even imagine how hard it must have been living with this for all that time, and I know I can’t change the past, but I really think I’ll be able to fix it for you with the appeal.”

Castiel doesn’t even have it in him to hope; he knows it will crush him to lose that again. Although, he reminds himself optimistically, at least he won’t be alone this time. “Thank you, Sam. I suppose if all else fails, Dean is here now. I can be happy with that.”

Sam smiles happily. “You really loved him all this time?”

“Never stopped,” he confirms.

“He told me you would. He’d tell anybody who would listen, really. We fought about it sometimes,” Sam says quietly, meeting his gaze with a guilty look in his eyes. “He was just so unhappy, Cas. He was always smiling and seemed so light and carefree when he was with you that seeing him without you was - it was heartbreaking,” he confesses, breaking Castiel's heart in the process. “He tried to hide it, and before I could smell him he did a really good job of it when he thought I wasn’t looking, but after I presented as an alpha he just kept walking around with a convincing smile on his face even though I could smell he was miserable. All the time, every day. I just wanted him to be happy, and I thought if he would forget about you and move on that might get him there faster. It wasn’t personal or anything.”

“I would have preferred him to be happy, too,” Castiel says honestly. “I can't harbor any hard feelings towards you for wanting that for your brother.”

“Good,” Sam says with an awkward little laugh. “But for the record, he’s happier tonight than I’ve seen him since we left. No contest. I’m glad you’re back together.”

“So does that mean you’re not going to attack me when you see we’ve mated?” Castiel checks.

Sam laughs somewhat awkwardly as he shakes his head. “Of course I won’t. He’s not 17 anymore, and it’s always been you anyway.” Then he gathers up the beer bottles and smiles at Castiel. “You’re really gonna bite him?”

“As long as he doesn’t change his mind, yes. I know I don’t have much to offer him -”

“Dude, that doesn’t matter to him or me. You’d make him the happiest omega in the world if you lived in a box, as long as you're with him,” Sam says.

In an effort to lighten the conversation, he replies, “Sounds like I’m overqualified then.” He gets a quick smile from Sam before Castiel grabs four plates from the cupboard, places the server and four forks on top of them, then lifts all of that into one hand and the pie into the other.

“You got that okay?” Sam checks.

“You’ll be the second one to know if I drop something,” Castiel says with a smile.

“You know Dean will actually cry if you drop the pie, right?”

“I heard that,” Dean shouts from the living room. Castiel has a big smile on his face when he walks into the room and smells his omega’s gourmet coffee scent greet him. “And he’s right, so don’t drop it.”

Castiel carefully places the plates and pie on the coffee table, aiming a satisfied smile at Dean over his shoulder. “O ye of little faith.”

“Can never be too careful when it comes to pie,” Dean says seriously, but the smile is in his eyes and Castiel officially can’t wipe the smile off of his face. He serves the first piece to Dean of course, then Sam and Gabriel, and finally settles back on the couch with the last piece of pie on his lap and his beer bottle between his legs. He takes his first bite and nods his approval; his omega makes a delicious apple pie.

“Psst,” Dean says quietly. He turns towards him and Dean swoops in for a quick kiss, the pie crumbs caught between their lips making him laugh into it. Dean brushes them away from Castiel's mouth with his thumb before he pops it into his mouth with a wink like that’s a perfectly normal thing to do, and Castiel can’t refrain from shaking his head in fond exasperation.

“You’re disgusting,” Sam says from the love seat, and Castiel silently agrees with him in a much less hostile way.

“Believe me, we’ve shared a lot worse,” Dean says, causing Castiel to choke slightly on his next bite and Dean to laugh loudly with his mouth hanging open still full of pie.

“Sam is right, close your mouth, heathen,” Castiel chuckles.

Instead of listening to him, Dean somehow manages to stuff _another_ bite of pie into his mouth and grins at him with his cheeks stuffed full of food. He’s fairly certain Dean’s next words are, “You love my mouth,” but he’s sprayed with so many pie crumbs when he talks he can’t quite hear it over his own sound of disgust.

“Shoot! Shoot it! SHOOT THE PUCK!” Gabriel shouts suddenly, and then they all turn to look at the screen just in time to see John Tavares shoot the puck through two defensemen in front of the goalie, over the goaltender’s shoulder, and straight into the net. “SCORES!” Gabriel’s yell booms over the celebratory shouts from the rest of them, and then the four of them are cheersing their beer bottles together.

As they watch the instant replay, Castiel realizes for the first time since Dean slipped out of his bed in 2007 that he wouldn't change where he is for anything at all.


	15. Chapter 15

**_2019_ **

After the hockey game, the scent of gourmet coffee is still thick in the air as he and Dean work on unloading the dishwasher. The idea of his home smelling like this every day has his own happiness adding to it, and he’s smiling softly when he says, “I don’t remember you smelling this happy any other time I saw you do dishes.”

Dean grins at him over his shoulder with a shrug. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing them in my alpha’s house before.” Castiel can’t possibly stay away from how Dean’s scent is pulling him in like a magnet for another moment, so he approaches him from behind to kiss the back of his neck as his hands circle his hips and slide up his toned stomach to his broad chest. “And you hardly ever felt me up in my kitchen,” Dean adds, which makes Castiel laugh.

“The chances of being interrupted by our brothers are considerably smaller now that neither of them live here.” Castiel says it tongue-in-cheek, causing Dean to laugh this time.

“Says the guy whose brother already walked in on us once today.”

 _“Your_ brother was there too as I recall, but now they’re gone and I have you all to myself.”

“And you’re askin’ why I smell so happy?” Dean says pointedly.

Then Castiel gets the view of a lifetime when Dean bends over at the waist to put the last plate on the bottom rack and rubs his ass against his crotch in the process. He can’t help the way his breath catches at the sight of those perfectly round cheeks clad in tight denim, and he doesn’t miss the cocky smirk on Dean’s face as he straightens up.

Thinking about how much he would like to drag Dean to his bedroom right now and turn that smirk into a pair of lust-bitten lips causes him to realize with a jolt of guilt that he just assumed Dean would be staying over tonight without giving him the choice. “I just realized I never actually asked you, but would you like to stay the night?”

“Far as I’m concerned, I’m not sleeping a night without you ever again unless you kick my ass out,” Dean answers.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes, making Dean hum happily as Castiel’s lips find the side of his throat and his semi erection naturally slots against the tantalizing curve of his omega’s ass. The scent of Dean’s arousal hits his nose and he inhales it greedily.

“Thought you said you couldn’t go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink,” Dean reminds him.

“I meant that, I’m just rewarding you for all of your hard work,” Castiel says, feigning innocence. Seeing as Dean lets him know he isn’t buying it with the scoff he makes, he gives into the urge to slide his hands down to squeeze his ass. “Or maybe I just can’t keep my hands off of you,” he admits, purposely pitching his voice low the way he knows Dean likes it.

“Always were obsessed with my ass,” Dean says breathlessly.

“That’s completely true.” Castiel nips on the lobe of his ear while Dean struggles to place the last glass on the top rack without missing. “I have to admit, I never understood the appeal of skinny jeans until you walked in here today wearing them.”

“Bet they look even better on the floor,” Dean quips, turning around to grin at him.

Castiel’s mouth is already watering at the very idea. “Sounds like something we should test. For science.”

“For science,” Dean repeats, still grinning as he runs his hands up his shoulders and around the back of his neck to tease at his hair. “You’re still such a loser.”

Feeling increasingly warm on the inside from the insult he knows is really an endearment combined with the scent of Dean’s brown sugar scented slick in the air, he grins wolfishly and replies, “A loser who’s about to get very, very lucky.”

Dean’s eyes flash with arousal, but he teases him by pressing a thigh forwards against his thickening erection. “You think I’m a sure thing, huh?”

“Considering I can already smell your slick, I think my chances are pretty good,” Castiel replies, letting his fingers dance along the dampening crack of Dean’s ass.

Dean is absolutely breathtaking while he smiles back at him, seemingly completely comfortable with his body’s reaction to Castiel’s and the way he bares his neck for him. He _barely_ contains a growl at the submissive gesture, mentally berating himself for the possessive nature that’s been slipping out more today than it has in the past. He feels like his inner alpha’s been lurking just under the surface since Dean came back and he’s only one wrong move away from losing control completely, which is not something he wants Dean to see.

“Think we can make it to the bedroom this time?” Dean asks.

Castiel nudges Dean’s chin up with his nose and nips at the skin stretched tightly across his Adam’s apple. “I have my doubts,” he says honestly.

“We could always fuck in the kitchen,” Dean offers, sending a throbbing pulse of arousal directly between his legs.

“Oh, we will,” Castiel promises. “In fact, I already have a very extensive list made of places in this house I’d like to see you naked and dripping for me, and you up on the counter with your legs wrapped around me and my cock drilling into you is very close to the top of the list.”

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. “You talkin’ dirty to me with that rough sex voice of yours has still gotta be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” A quiet growl rumbles in his chest when another deep breath tells him Dean is literally so slick he's dripping for him, right here and now. “What’s at the top of your list, alpha?”

He can smell the spike of arousal in his own scent, and before he does something absolutely insane like knot and claim Dean on the kitchen counter like an animal, he tugs Dean away from the dishwasher without a word, grabs a tab to put inside, starts it up and leads him down the hallway towards the bedroom. He stops to lock the front door and to turn lights off as they go, and it isn’t until they reach his bedroom that he finally gives himself permission to say what he was thinking.

“I thought we’d better get here before I tell you what I want the most in case we get carried away again,” Castiel says, his fingers grasping the hem of Dean’s shirt and slowly dragging it up and over his head. He kisses his newly bared muscular shoulders and says, “I want to kiss and touch and taste every inch of you until you’re so wet you’re soaking my bed sheets.” He takes pride in the way Dean’s breaths are already coming out short and fast, allowing it to give him the push he needs to admit what he _really_ wants tonight. “And then I want you to use all that slick to finger me open -”

“Jesus christ,” Dean pants, his hands tightening on Castiel’s shoulders like he needs his help to stay standing.

“And then you’re going to fuck me for the first time in twelve years.” Dean whimpers in response but Castiel isn’t done yet; if he’s in for a penny he’s in for a pound. “You’ll have to start slow because you’re the only thing that’s ever been inside of me,” Castiel confesses as his lips find Dean’s collarbone and start a trail across it. “But after I get used to it, I want you to fuck me so hard I’m not going to be able to sit down all day tomorrow without a wince.”

He can hear how hard Dean swallows as his mouth and tongue teases his way down Dean’s chest to his nipples. His omega’s voice is nowhere close to steady when he says, “I guess we could do that if you really want to.”

He chuckles at the desperation he can feel in the tight set of Dean’s muscles. “And after you come inside of me, I want you to bite me.” Then, softening his voice so it doesn’t sound like he _has_ to, he adds, “If you want to.”

“You want me to claim you, too?” Dean asks, sounding surprised but not disappointed.

“I want us to be equals,” Castiel confirms, lifting his lips away from his skin to look him in the face. “I want to be yours at least as badly as I want you to be mine.”

“Okay,” Dean croaks, nodding as if he’s in a daze. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah. I wanna give you a mating bite, too. Want everybody to know you’re mine.”

Castiel’s lips crush Dean’s in the very next breath, and then Dean’s hands are in his hair, Castiel’s are back on his ass and he’s mapping the inside of Dean’s mouth with one sweep of his tongue after another. He allows Dean to take control when he tries and is steered towards the bed as Dean drops his hands to his back to start lifting his shirt up, only breaking the seal of their mouths to pull it off over his head. Then he hears Dean humming his approval as he drags his eyes across his shoulders and follows the light dusting of curly hair that decorates his chest and spreads down to his belly button and disappears under his jeans.

Dean’s voice is as intense as his stare when he says, “You’re so damn hot, Cas.”

Castiel shakes his head in disagreement as he sits on the bed and moves back to lie down in the center of the mattress, his eyes busy hungrily taking in each detail of Dean’s body. “Your beauty will always put me to shame. Just look at you, Dean. Not a single flaw.”

Dean lets out a self deprecating huff of laughter, climbing onto the bed to settle between his spread legs. “I’m huge for an omega.”

“You’re perfect,” Castiel insists, running his palms up his arms to lovingly rub his shoulders.

Dean’s expression softens, and his words are quiet when he says, “Don’t ever stop thinkin’ that, okay?”

Castiel cups his gorgeous face to urge him closer. “Never.” He seals his promise with a kiss, and this time when their lips meet, the desire low in his belly doesn’t begin like a roaring fire. It’s embers, glowing hot and steady, ready and willing to grow into more but in absolutely no rush to get there.

Dean’s scent is warm and welcoming, the weight holding him down now much more significant than it was when they were younger, and he feels a forbidden thrill of excitement knowing what they’re about to do and how much they both want it.

He’s not at all surprised when Dean’s lips leave his in search of his scent gland, sure it’s just as irresistible to Dean as Dean’s is to him, but a shiver runs through him when he feels his tongue swipe along it, thinking about Dean putting his claim there soon.

Dean presses the bridge of his nose to his scent gland and breathes, “Smell so good alpha.”

“I’ll smell like us both soon,” Castiel reminds him.

Dean kisses a drawn out, “Mmmm mine,” into his scent gland, the low vibration of his lips sending goosebumps down his neck and to his chest. Dean’s lips follow it like a map, traveling the expanse of his chest, flicking over his nipples, and leaving wet, opened mouth kisses alongside his treasure trail. Dean pauses to press a gentle kiss to the bruise on his hip left by his seatbelt, and then Castiel’s teeth are digging into his bottom lip as Dean opens his jeans for him and pulls them down with his boxers, leaving his erect cock to slap against his pelvis.

He watches as Dean’s shoulders rise with the deep breath he takes in through his nose, and then Dean licks his lips and dives on him. Castiel throws his head back as the tip of his cock is taken fast and deep into his omega’s mouth. Dean curls his tongue around the head, swirling around and around, randomly applying sharp suction that makes him feel like Dean’s going to suck his brains out before he sinks down on his length until Castiel nudges the back of his throat. Dean moans his pleasure as he pulls back up and gives him the same treatment a second and third time, then he lets his cock fall from his mouth and kisses along his shaft instead.

Castiel lifts his head to green eyes locked on his face, a pink tongue darting out to soak him with his saliva before licking to the tip where he flattens his tongue across the top. Dean has always been especially good at this, but it has less to do with his skill (though he has no complaints there either) and more to do with how enthusiastic he is to put on a show for him. That hasn’t changed, because he still makes the most arousing little sounds, sucking and slurping eagerly, moaning his delight each time he’s rewarded with a new spurt of precum to drink down. His sharp cheekbones are flushed with arousal, the scent of his slick seeping heavily into the air despite the fact that his pants are still on, and as Dean works up and down the portion of his cock he can fit in his mouth, Castiel focuses on how those plush lips of his are stretched thin to provide a perfect seal.

Dean watches him watching and changes the angle of his head so his cock nudges the inside of cheek, purposely giving him the pornographic sight of the shape of his cock poking at his cheek. When Castiel grits his teeth and growls through his pleasure, Dean takes it a step further, hollowing his cheeks completely so Castiel can see his cock framed between them as he sucks. Castiel’s hands dart out without his permission, one cupping the back of Dean’s head to hold him in place and the other resting alongside his face to feel his cock sliding heavily along his omega’s tongue.

“So gorgeous, Dean.” His thumb strokes the corner of his lips where his cock meets Dean’s spit slick flesh and he watches as Dean’s eyelids flutter, the curl of his long eyelashes meeting the apple of his cheeks absolutely stunning. “Such a good omega for me.”

Dean groans at that and Castiel gasps at the vibrations moving along his cock, the hand on the back of Dean’s head pulling him down to take more of him into his mouth before he can remember to stop himself. Dean, though - sweet, perfect Dean - takes him without a hitch, flicking his eyes back up to meet Castiel’s with an open expression that he can read as permission. Castiel’s teeth are sharp where they sink back into his lip in a desperate attempt to remain gentle when he rolls his hips up into the perfect wet heat of his omega’s mouth at the same time he pulls his head down onto him. Dean’s muscles relax as he gives Castiel complete control over the pace, rhythm, and depth of how he gets his dick sucked, and considering it’s been a fucking decade and Dean is submitting to him like a dream, Castiel feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He plunges his cock mindlessly into Dean’s mouth, alternating between rubbing along his soft palate and thrusting deep into his mouth, moaning when Dean starts gagging as he tries taking him further and further.

An animalistic part of him he’s not at all proud of fucking _loves it,_ feels pride and satisfaction over how desperate his omega is to take everything he wants to give him, but because he loves him, too, he resists the urge to force his entire length down his throat and knot his mouth the way he’s fantasizing about. Instead, he pets through his hair and strokes his cheek. “You’re so good to me, sweetheart. Such a good omega,” Castiel says breathlessly. “Let me get a taste of those lips I love so much,” he requests.

Dean knows that’s his cue to pull off, which he does after he sucks his way back up to the tip and flicks his tongue over it until Castiel’s eyes all but roll back into his head. They’re both breathing hard as he watches Dean get to his feet to unbutton his jeans, and the little tease turns his back on him as he pulls them down so Castiel gets a perfect view of the way his ass is shiny from all of his slick.

“Jesus Dean,” Castiel curses.

Dean shimmies as he pushes his skinny jeans down each bow leg and steps out of them. The scent of his slick coils in the air and straight into his nostrils, stronger and sweeter than he’s smelled it so far tonight, and it completely steals his filter. “Fuck you smell good, omega.” Dean aims a cocky smile over his shoulder and for the umpteenth time in his life, he’s completely blindsided by the sheer magnitude of his attraction to him. His cock begins leaking again as he watches the roundness of Dean’s ass cheeks, and as Dean straightens up, the enticing shape of his broad shoulders receding to a tapered waist and full ass is put on full display and Castiel is literally salivating.  

He licks his lips hungrily once Dean turns to face him and asks, “Need some help cleaning some of that up, my omega?”

“I really, _really_ wanna say yes,” Dean says as he gets back onto the bed. “But I’m already dying to feel you inside of me, and if I don’t get the show on the road, I’m never gonna be able to wait long enough to fuck you first.”

Castiel understands entirely, because now that they’re naked and in bed and he can so easily scent Dean’s slick in the air, all of his alpha instincts are telling him to knot his omega while he can so he can _claim, mate, breed._ He knows he’s seconds away from losing the control he’s only barely clinging to, and he needs to distract himself with bringing Dean every moment of pleasure he possibly can before he snaps.

“Let me taste you,” Castiel implores him. “It’s been so long, Dean. Let me make you feel as good as you deserve.” Dean groans in defeat as he turns himself around and straddles him in reverse, shamelessly putting his ass right in Castiel’s face. Dean’s slick is glistening on his skin, smelling so deliciously like brown sugar that Castiel is dying for a taste.

“Look at how wet you are,” Castiel says reverently, lifting his hands to frame his hips. “Your hole is dripping with it, omega, and you smell -” He takes in a deep breath as his lips are drawn to Dean’s crack like a magnet. “So, so sweet, Dean. Absolutely perfect.” He allows his hot breath to ghost over his hole and he sees with pride that Dean’s fingers are already clenched in the sheets in anticipation because he knows any second now Castiel’s going to bring him incomprehensible pleasure.

Dean wiggles back even further, and Castiel rewards his offering with one long, tortuously slow, firm lick from right beneath his balls all the way up to his hole.

“Oh f-fuck,” Dean gasps.

He’s sure Dean thinks he’s going to dive in like he’s starving for it, so instead, he does the opposite. He allows only his tongue to tease at his hole after that, just the pointed tip, leaving small kitten licks all around his opening that has his omega’s body tensing, swaying needily, and silently begging for more. He follows the trail of Dean’s sweet tasting slick down the insides of his legs and behind his balls before he lazily licks his way back up, catching every drop as it cascades from his leaking hole.

Each time Castiel’s tongue returns to his opening, he circles his rim, making Dean’s whole body jerk as he silently pleads for Castiel’s tongue to delve more deeply inside of him. Feeling what little control he has beginning to slip through his fingers, Castiel starts palming his omega’s sweet ass, caressing his firm cheeks as he licks around him, chasing each bead of his slick as it dribbles out of him and driving Dean to make some of the most enticing sounds he’s ever heard.

It’s Castiel’s turn to moan like a porn star when Dean suddenly takes his cock back into the warmth of his mouth at the same time Dean pushes his ass more firmly into his face, likely to better feel the vibrations. Castiel spreads his cheeks and seals his mouth over his hole now, moaning purposely this time and enjoying Dean’s echoing moan where his lips are wrapped so firmly around his engorged cock.

He finally gives Dean what he’s wanted all along and spears his tongue inside of him, licking around his insides the best he can, completely lost in the heavenly scent and taste of Dean surrounding him like a dream come true. Distantly, he’s aware that Dean is no longer sucking his cock, but that’s only because he can hear him begging.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop. ‘M almost there.”

Castiel redoubles his efforts, moaning eagerly when Dean drops more of his weight onto his face. His omega is actually grinding now, riding his mouth and tongue so sinuously he can feel his own cock throbbing with how impossibly sexy Dean is. His lips close around Dean’s slick skin and he sucks on his rim, teasing lightly with his teeth, letting go and latching on again to tug on his sensitive flesh just right, and one final spear of his tongue inside has Dean’s body seizing up as he _howls_ through his orgasm.

Dean’s thrusting downwards to rub his cock along Castiel’s stomach, but Castiel doesn’t let go. His hands keep Dean’s ass up, his mouth sealed over it once more, lapping up and drinking down each new dribble of slick Dean produces as his hole clenches desperately around nothing.

He finally releases Dean when he notices the tremor in Dean’s arms where he’s trying to hold himself up, and Dean clumsily turns himself around to lie on top of him.

“You’re awesome,” Dean grins, his satisfaction evident in his glassy eyes and the dazed smile on his face. As Dean’s newly content scent makes itself known, Castiel decides then and there that Dean should always smell so sated and happy, and that it would be time well spent to make that a daily goal of his.

Dean leans down then to kiss him, and the first swipe of his tongue along the seam of Dean’s parted lips gives him a hint of his own salty, musky flavor, and as usual, that has him longing for more. He licks into Dean’s mouth to satisfy the craving, hyper aware of the way Dean’s settling heavily between his legs and the dry drag of their cocks together.

Hot, smooth skin begins to move in sync. Hips roll, Dean’s back muscles flex and dance under his palms, lips alternate between meeting each other and tasting shoulders, throats, scent glands. His hands seek out the curve of soft omega hips, massaging, caressing, worshiping.

Dean whispers, “Love you,” unprompted against his lips and steals his breath with how raw his voice is.

His grip falters as he deepens their kiss further, hands returning to slide up and over the supple round mounds of Dean’s ass that will forever cause his blood to boil, and his fingers skate along the slick crevice between them. Dean breaks the slippery seal of their lips with a deep moan and surges back into it with two hands framing his face.

He straddles Castiel’s lap, one perfectly bowed leg settling on either side of him, and Castiel’s hands, still glued to his ass, lower him on top of him until Dean’s slickened cleft is sliding along the length of his cock. He groans into Dean’s mouth, kissing him deeply as Dean rocks on top of him, the teasing warmth of his waiting hole shattering what remains of his control.

Dean’s scent is so thick in the air now Castiel can’t think of anything but him. Each breath he drags in is heavy with arousal, his body is thrumming with anticipation, his hands shaking from holding himself back from fucking hard and deep into Dean’s hot core the way he’s made for. He pulls Dean’s hips forward, biting down on his omega’s bottom lip when he feels the head of his cock catch on Dean’s rim. He growls against Dean’s lips as they realign, lifting that delectable ass of his just right so he can ride the slippery crease of his ass once, twice, until they connect unintentionally and the head of his cock kisses Dean’s dripping hole.

 _“Fuck,”_ Dean pants, wrenching his lips away to brace himself on Castiel’s chest. “Need you. I can’t - I can’t wait anymore. Alpha, please?”

Castiel is nodding eagerly as he grips the base of his cock with trembling fingers and holds himself steady, and _fuck -_ Dean sinks down and starts to take him in one glorious second at a time.

The only prep Dean got was from his tongue, and maybe because it’s so tight or maybe because he’s fucking his omega bare for the second time in his life, it’s so, so _unbelievably_ good. Dean’s head is bowed and his mouth is hanging open as he continues to lower himself onto his cock, and Castiel’s gaze is drawn between their legs to watch raptly as the two of them become one.

It’s only been a handful of seconds of the most deliciously hot, soaking wet heat squeezing his cock when he knows he absolutely has to tear his eyes away from the erotic sight of his cock being swallowed up by Dean’s ass before he embarrasses himself. When he drags his eyes back up, he sees that Dean’s already on his way back to full hardness, and he preens internally knowing that his omega is _this_ attracted to him. As he lifts his gaze upwards over Dean’s stomach and his muscled chest to the most stunning face he’ll ever see, he’s completely unprepared for the way the light on his bedroom ceiling is shining softly behind Dean’s head like a halo. As Dean bottoms out and slowly starts to move on top of him, his face flickers between falling into shadows and being illuminated so exquisitely it’s as if light itself only exists to kiss his freckled skin, and Castiel’s breath is stolen right from his lungs from the utter perfection of the man moving so sinuously on top of him.

Even without the mating bite, without a claim, without anything more than what he has right now, he knows all the way down to his soul that Dean is _everything._ If he never sees another thing, breathes another breath, or lives another second after this, feeling Dean surrounding him so completely this one time - body, heart, and soul - after everything they’ve been through will be more than enough for him. His eyes are watering as the entirety of his emotions wash through him, and he knows this is it. This is the moment he’s been waiting for since the first time he laid eyes on Dean.

He gets his hand on the back of Dean’s neck and applies soft pressure. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his voice only a harsh whisper due to the extent of his feelings for his omega. Dean lowers his upper body with an unasked question in his gaze, and when he’s braced himself on his hands on either side of Castiel’s shoulders, Castiel moves his hand alongside his face and kisses him. He draws him down further to kiss him deeply, lovingly, his heart aching with the sweetness of it, and when he can’t possibly wait another moment, he stops to nuzzle their noses together.

“All that you are is everything that I’ll ever need,” Castiel says passionately. “I have only ever been yours, and I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make you happy enough to erase each and every moment of sadness you’ve ever felt if you’ll do me the honor of making me your mate.”

Dean’s eyes go a little wide, like he never thought Castiel would let him initiate the mating ritual, but though it’s certainly unorthodox, he knows it’s right. He can feel it with all he is that this is the way it’s supposed to be. So he flips every alpha and omega rule in the book on its ass by baring his neck and submitting completely to the most astounding person he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he gently urges Dean’s mouth right to his neck.

Dean scents him slowly, dragging in several deep, long breaths, zeroing in on the exact spot where his heart feels like it’s going to leap right out from beneath his skin, and presses a single chaste but lingering kiss there. Dean’s lips leave his skin for a lone breath while he says, “I love you, alpha,” and then nothing else matters but Dean’s teeth clamping down on his mating gland.

Time stops.

The entire world narrows down to he and Dean. As Dean’s teeth tear into his flesh, he discovers the pain is nothing compared to the magnitude of his relief, the sheer bliss of knowing that he is bound to Dean forever. A smile spreads on his lips as a soul-deep sensation of _belonging_ rushes through him, flowing from where Dean’s teeth are still sunk into his neck to the tips of his fingers and straight down to his toes. Something inside of him shifts, realigns, then fractures his very existence into a million different pieces and knits them back together entwined with ribbons of _Dean._ He’ll never again be the lonely alpha pining for his omega. He is and always will be threaded together with pieces of Dean. It’s impossible to ever truly be separated now, and he knows he just became the best possible version of himself because he’s bonded to his true mate the way he’s wanted to be since he was 22 years old.

He’s Dean’s.

Dean, who is carefully cleaning his bleeding neck with his lips and tongue as he rocks back gently and slowly onto Castiel’s still fully erect cock sheathed deeply inside of him.

The first word Castiel manages to say is, “Yours.”

And just when Castiel thought his heart couldn’t get any fuller, Dean doesn’t miss a beat before he answers, “Always.”

 

The coppery but weirdly appealing taste of Cas’s blood is still ripe on Dean’s tongue when their lips meet. His alpha is stroking his face, petting through his hair, and kissing him like he’ll wither into nothing if their lips ever part. The first deep breath he drags in through his nose while Cas assaults his mouth causes his ass to gush with slick and pleasure to explode like fireworks in his stomach.

He moans loud and deep, breaking their kiss to press his nose to Cas’s scent gland, because _holy shit_ does he smell good _._ He wants to rub his entire body over this one little patch of skin, wants to dive into his new scent and drown there, sopping wet and drenched in the scent of heaven and sin. Cas smells like the most flawless blend of blueberry, coffee, and chocolate he ever could have imagined. It smells like pure sex, like him and Cas together and home and _mate._

“You - you smell different,” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes filling faster than he can even hope to blink away. “Holy fuck, Cas. You smell like mate. Like mine. You’re really mine. You’re my mate.”

Cas draws his face away from his neck and gazes up at him with more love than he’ll ever be worthy of. “I was always yours.”

He rocks back onto his thick cock instinctively as a zing of possessiveness runs through him, and though Cas’s eyes flash, he uses his thumb to brush away the tears that are rolling down his face.

“Dunno if I want to keep scenting you or let you fuck my brains out,” he confesses, getting a breathy laugh out of Cas.

“Let me fix that for you, then,” Cas suggests, and just like that, Cas flips them over until he’s flat on his back with his alpha pressing him into the mattress.

Cas drives deep inside of him with a powerful thrust, and yeah, Cas makes one hell of an argument for fucking even if he does smell like his own personal ambrosia. He spreads his legs wider to better accommodate his alpha’s size, making an incomprehensible sound as the next slap of Cas’s hips against his thighs sends a shock wave of pleasure reverberating through him. His mind is blissfully blank as he lies back and takes it, buzzing under the intensity of Cas’s gaze, drunk on the scent of _his mate’s_ arousal in the air.

Some part of him is screaming at him to move, to roll his hips up and against Cas to relish in the sensation of his alpha’s cock pushing into him. But Cas is taking such good care of him, fucking him just right, and so he gives into his deeply ingrained instincts and continues to submit, letting Cas take him exactly how he wants to, absolutely sure that his alpha will do everything he can to make it good for him.

“God you feel good,” Cas says from above him, and his low voice adds another layer to his arousal, skimming over his already oversensitive skin. Lava surges through his veins at the thought of having this, of having Cas all to himself from now on, knowing that Cas will never want or need anybody but him after this. “Smell even better,” Cas adds, leaning in for a kiss.

Dean comes back to himself with the first press of Cas’s soft lips against his, moving his hands up into Cas’s soft hair as their mouths and tongues work languidly together. Cas’s deep, tender kisses are the complete opposite of how he’s drilling into him hard and fast, one hand holding himself up and the other hot on his hip.

Cas sets an incessant pace, and though it isn’t exactly rough, it’s fervent and more desperate than they’ve ever fucked before outside of his heat. Dean is being driven to the edge faster and more keenly because of it, turned on more and more with every one of Cas’s small tells that he wants him so much he’s losing control. Cas’s fingernails dig into his skin, his teeth occasionally catch sharply on his lips, and when his hand starts encouraging him to move in a counter rhythm to what he’s set, Dean gladly follows his lead and meets Cas halfway when his thick cock spears into him again and again.

They each work to lead the other into a frantic symphony of Cas’s low, throaty growls, and Dean’s high-pitched whimpers as he realizes Cas’s knot is already growing. The feeling of his firm flesh pressing and rubbing against his sensitive rim with each thrust has Dean’s breath ripping through his lungs, making his throat raw with the need to draw a decent breath. He’s already stuffed full, as full as he could ever hope to be, and yet his inner omega still craves more, craves the knot he needs in order to finish the mating bond he’s wanted since he was 17. It’s instinct when his ass starts clenching, squeezing, and eventually wrestling his lips away from Cas’s to bare his neck, trying to entice his alpha into making his claim every way he knows how as Cas continues to thrust into him.

Cas leans in to tease at the corner of his mouth with his lips and tongue. “Eager for more, aren’t you, omega?”

Dean nods, entirely shameless with just how much he wants him, his longing increasing tenfold as Cas’s lips make their way to his neck. “Want you to knot me, alpha.” He hears it when Cas draws in a sharp breath, causing Dean to smirk at his obvious weakness. He can be such a predictable little alpha sometimes. “Want your knot so bad, Cas. Wanna feel it fill me up.” Cas’s next thrust is twice as hard, putting the punishing pace he set earlier to shame, absolutely ruthless with it as his knot begins to breach him. _“Yes,”_ Dean gasps. “Yeah, Cas, just like that.”

Cas drags his nose along Dean’s scent gland, and just knowing that Cas is going to bite him tonight has anticipation spreading through him like an inferno. His hands paw at Cas’s back, his shoulders, his ass, wordlessly dragging him closer, tighter to him, until at last Cas is wholly on top of him. Cas’s heavy weight has him pinned down completely and his face is pressed firmly into the crook of his neck. Dean’s legs wrap around his waist, his heels digging into his lower back as Cas keeps shoving himself deeper and deeper, more and more of his knot forcing itself inside of him and starting to catch between each thrust.

Cas drills into him once more and Dean holds him in with two firm handfuls of his ass, calling out when Cas grinds and swivels his hips, finding and then dragging across his prostate. _“Oh_ fuck, more. Again, Cas,” Dean gasps.

Cas pulls out and slams back in, taking full advantage of the knowledge he just gained of the precise angle he needs to drive Dean into a frenzy, relentlessly rutting against his sweet spot over and over until Dean’s body is so tight with tension all it’s going to take for his orgasm to explode out of him is the tiniest provocation.

He feels Cas’s teeth scrape gently on his scent gland and his fingers grip his back desperately. One breathless, “Please, alpha,” escapes him before Cas’s knot pops past his rim with a final forceful thrust, stretching him impossibly further and filling every single nook and cranny inside of him that nobody else will ever know, and Cas uses his alpha canines to bite into his mating gland. Pleasure unlike anything he’s ever imagined inflates beyond comprehension and explodes in a single instant, so big and sharp and all-encompassing he’s damn near paralyzed from feeling anything _except_ for the way it rips through him.

Unprecedented but extraordinary heat sparks where Cas’s teeth are sunk in his neck and races through his veins from head to toe, setting fire to everything he was before this moment and burning it all to nothing. A new Dean rises from the ashes like a phoenix, a Dean who feels whole and complete because of an unending, unbreakable bond he’s been waiting more than a decade for. He feels mighty and powerful - not just a weak omega bitch anymore - no, he’s fortified now with more love than he can describe, because of Cas, because he’s Cas’s _mate_ and he’s never been so glad to be an omega as he is in this exact moment.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Cas whispers against his neck. He feels Cas’s gentle tongue through his confusion, hot and wet as it laps at his mating bite, pressing dozens of kisses into his bleeding skin with murmured apologies weaving between them. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, coffee bean.”

Dean huffs out a breathless laugh once he understands Cas is apologizing for biting him, only distantly aware of his newly spent cock dribbling once more tiredly on his hip in a pool of his own cum.

Joy overpowers every other emotion inside of him, absolutely streaming from his scent gland and every other pulse point on his body, so he isn’t surprised at all when Cas takes a deep breath. He feels the way it shakes on the exhale and doesn’t even have time to wonder if Cas is going to like his new scent before Cas is choking out, _“Oh my god,_ Dean. Oh, Dean. Dean - my mate. My beautiful mate.” He jolts with surprise and overstimulation when he feels Cas roll his hips once more, spilling a fresh load of cum into his ass where they’re currently locked together. “You’re my mate. You’re finally my mate,” Cas repeats, his shoulders starting to shake them both with his sobs.

Dean’s hands find his alpha’s hair, brushing through it gently and fully giving into the hurricane of emotions he himself is experiencing, feeling his tears mixing with Cas’s where they roll down his neck.

“I love you,” Dean says quietly. “I love you so damn much, Cas. You just - you just gave me everything I’ve ever wanted, and I swear, I’m gonna - I’m gonna... be better. I’m gonna be such a good omega for you.”

“Absolutely not,” Cas argues softly, pushing himself up to his elbows to gaze down at him. Tears are still dripping down his nose when he says, “You’re going to keep being the opinionated, outspoken, mouthy little omega I fell in love with or I take my bite back.”

Dean smiles through the embarrassing new tears that fall. Cas has _always_ loved him exactly the way he is, flaws and all. “No takesies backsies.”

Cas’s lips twitch at the corners, but he fails miserably from hiding the smile in his ocean blue eyes. “I suppose I’m stuck with you now.”

Dean clenches his ass around the knot still inside of him, chuckling happily at the strangled sound Cas lets out. “Literally.”

Cas bends down to catch his lips in a long, drawn-out kiss, melting him all the way to his core the way only Cas has ever been able to. When they part, Cas says, “I’m sorry that didn’t go exactly as planned.”

“I can fuck you later,” Dean says easily. “We have forever now.”

“I know that,” Cas replies, positively beaming at the reminder. “I just meant that I intended to go more slowly, be more gentle when the time came. I feel like there was 12 years of build up and I just lost my mind and bit you without even asking or -”

Dean cuts him off with a light cuff to the back of the head. “Without asking? Seriously? I’m the one who’s been asking _you_ for twelve years!”

“Did you just hit me?” Cas asks evenly.

Dean presses his lips together as a laugh threatens to bubble out of him. “You needed a little swat to get your head on straight,” Dean maintains.

“Well, congratulations, little bean. You lasted all of a minute and a half as a _good omega.”_

Dean tries to hold in his laughter, but he’s so damn happy, he can’t. It bursts out of him, spraying Cas in the face with a little bit of spit from the force of it, and then when Cas glares at him, he loses it. He throws his head back and laughs and laughs and laughs, and only laughs harder when Cas can’t resist joining in. Then Cas is pressing dozens of kisses onto his face, his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his nose, and still, he can’t stop smiling.

“You know I wouldn’t want you any other way,” Cas finally says.

“I know,” Dean confirms. “But now that my brain’s working a little bit, I actually do have one complaint about the whole mating thing.”

Instantly, Cas tenses, a truly remarkable frown line forming between his eyebrows. “What’s that?”

Dean can’t help himself from leaning up to kiss that little furrow, which instantly smooths it out, he notices smugly. “I was so overwhelmed with you biting me I don’t even remember my orgasm.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Which one don’t you remember?” Cas asks, pinning him with a cocky smile that sends a new wave of arousal rushing through him.

“Pfft. You think you’re so good in bed,” Dean scoffs.

“I _am_ good in bed,” Cas insists. “Because you and I are good together, period.”

Cas misses his eye roll because he’s lowering himself to scent him again, and as his eyes close, Dean asks, “What do I smell like now?”

“A truly mouth-watering blend of coffee and blueberry with cinnamon undertones,” Cas answers. He sniffs again. “I don’t smell the brown sugar so much now.” He draws in another deep breath. “I hope that isn’t gone entirely. That’s how I knew you were aroused.”

“Newsflash, Cas,” Dean says, chuckling softly, turning his head to the side so Cas can keep mouthing at his scent gland. “Now that we’re mates and you smell like me, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be _aroused_ twenty-four-seven.”

“Hmmm. In that case, how am I ever going to let you leave?” Cas wonders.

Dean swallows hard at the presented opportunity and says, “It’s cool if you don’t.” Cas pushes back up to look down at him, his eyes searching Dean’s for a clue over how serious he is. Dean shrugs and smiles nervously. “Not like I wanna go anywhere else anyway.”

“Dean,” Cas says carefully. “I thought you were joking before when you mentioned moving in. Were you... were you serious?”

Now that he’s put himself on the spot, he’s tempted to make another joke out of it. He _does_ want to move in, he wants to fall asleep and wake up every single day with Cas. He doesn’t want to scare Cas away if it’s too much too fast though. Mustering up what courage he can find, he decides to ask, “That’d be crazy... right?”

“We just made an unbreakable, lifelong commitment to one another,” Cas reminds him softly, brushing their lips together. “If you want to move in, I would be thrilled. But if it’s too soon, I understand that too, and I’ll gladly take whatever time you wish to spend with me.”

Relief floods him, filling him with even more happiness than he was feeling only a minute ago. “Sam’s been showing me places online ever since we decided to come back,” Dean tells Cas, and he tries not to smile when he sees Cas’s shoulders slump. “He’s got a shit load of appointments set up for us to look at houses this week.” Cas nods, and opens his mouth to say something - probably something stupidly understanding and so damn _Cas -_ but Dean interrupts him before he can get it out. “But they’re all just for him. I told him before we even left that I was moving in here with you.”

Cas’s expression turns almost as soft as his voice. “You did?”

Dean nods and lets his smile spread. “Sam thought I was nuts but I knew you’d want me back. I knew you’d still love me as much as I love you, and I knew as soon as I found you I’d never wanna leave. ‘Course I wanna move in, Cas.”

“Absolutely nothing would make me happier,” Cas gushes, kissing him again and again, only stopping because they’re smiling too big for their lips to really match up. “I’ll have to talk to Gabriel, of course, since he’s the owner.”

“That’s gonna go over well,” Dean says sarcastically. “But I meant what I said before. I can buy him out. I haven’t spent a dime on anything other than rent and groceries for 12 years and I make good money.”

“We’re mates now, my love, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.” Cas kisses him once more before he says, “I’m going to roll onto my side so I can hold you and scent you at the same time.” Dean allows Cas to manhandle him until they’re both on their sides, his back to Cas’s front, and the familiar feeling of Cas’s nose is on his scent gland. “Do you even like this house?” Cas asks suddenly.

“It’s got you, a bed, and a bathroom, that’s literally all that matters to me right now,” he answers without hesitation. “We can get new furniture, make the place ours as we go if we want. As long as I get to come home to you every day and get rid of some of those bags under your eyes, none of that other shit matters.”

“Maybe this is just what I look like now that I’m so old,” Cas says. “I’m sure you noticed the grey hair, too.”

“Still sexy as fuck,” Dean says honestly. “You just need your omega to help you get a good night’s sleep.”

Cas sighs heavily, kissing his scent gland. “I don’t even remember what it feels like to sleep well.”

“You will,” Dean promises. “Every night from now on you’re gonna curl up behind me with your nose right there, and I’m gonna work my omega magic and lull your ancient ass to sleep.”

He can feel the small huff of Cas’s laughter on his neck, and his eyes drift closed. He feels so warm inside and out, so safe and protected, comfortable and content knowing that he has everything he’s ever wanted right here pressed against him.

“I missed you and your sass so much, coffee bean.”

“I missed you callin’ me that,” Dean says tiredly.

“A-ha!” Cas exclaims, startling him into opening his eyes again. “I knew you loved it!”

“I-I was half asleep and drunk on - on happy mate pheromones,” Dean stutters, his face burning. “That doesn’t even count. I woulda said anything!”

But Cas is already nosing at the sensitive spot behind his ear, murmuring, “My little bean. My coffee bean. My sweet little bean. My little coffee bean.”

Dean feels the flush spread on his face and is glad Cas can’t see it. “You done yet, or is there another combination of those words you haven’t embarrassed us both with?”

There’s a beat of silence until Cas relents, “I think that’s all of them.” His eyes close again, Cas pulls the blankets up over them both and draws him even more tightly to his chest, and he presses into the kiss Cas drops on his temple. “I love you, Dean. Thank you for making me feel like the luckiest alpha in the world.”

“Love you,” Dean echoes sleepily, pulling Cas’s hand to his chest.

He’s tired - exhausted, actually - from being woken up so many times the night before from his alarm, from the brief but intense heat he had that morning, from the emotional roller coaster of walking out on Cas, finding out they’re true mates, claiming each other. But still, he forces himself to stay awake for as long as he can just to savour the intoxicating permanent mixture of their scents, the steady rise and fall of his alpha’s chest behind him, the way Cas’s thumb keeps brushing over the back of his hand lovingly, thinking about how he’s damn sure he’s never gonna get sick of this for as long as he lives.

Cas’s voice is a quiet whisper when he says, “My sweet little coffee bean.” Dean doesn’t say anything back, confused where that came from all of the sudden. “I think I missed that combination before. My sweet little coffee bean,” he repeats, kissing his neck.

Dean will take the way his heart fills so impossibly fast to the grave, but his words are brimming with affection when he says, “You loser.”

The last thing he hears before Cas goes lax behind him is a soft hum of agreement to match the sudden surge of happy alpha pheromones. Seconds later, he follows Cas into sleep, knowing absolutely that tomorrow will be the first day of the happily-ever-after he’s been waiting for ever since he got his first whiff of blueberry and dark chocolate at the outdoor rink twelve years ago.


	16. Chapter 16

**_2029_ **

Cas has those gorgeous hands of his under the backs of his own muscular thighs. His fingers are digging into his skin, his legs are spread and pulled as close to his shoulders as he can get them, and all Dean can smell is the sweetening scent of slick. The mouthwatering aroma of blueberry and coffee is heavy in the air because he’s fucking covered in it; mouth, hands, groin, ass, thighs, and especially his cock, which is currently pounding into the impossible tightness of Cas’s ass.

“Fuck,” Cas grunts. _“Yes,_ right there. Harder.”

Jesus, that rough alpha voice barking out orders even when Dean’s balls deep inside of him pulls a whimper all the way from the bottom of his toes.

“So good, Dean. Such a good omega.”

Dean’s ass clenches as the praise causes his orgasm to build rapidly. It always feels so damn good when they switch and he gets to fuck Cas, but his instincts are still telling him he needs to be filled and to take his mate’s knot, and so it’s always an internal battle. He leans in to catch Cas’s lips again, needing a distraction from imagining how good Cas’s knot is gonna feel locking inside of him, and sinks into the familiar taste and sensation of Cas’s full lips moving against his. His tongue fucks into Cas’s mouth in time with his thrusts, but when Cas starts rolling his hips in a counter rhythm, making them connect harder and more forcibly, he’s brought right back to way too vivid memories of how fucking good Cas is at thrusting with those sharp hips of his.

“Want you.” They’re both sweating, panting, and Cas’s breath is sweet from his slick and hot against his mouth. “Need you, Cas. Shit.”

Cas is suddenly tightening around him, the squeeze and friction unbelievable around his cock, and Dean’s forehead drops to his alpha’s strong shoulder as he’s slammed with pleasure. “N-no time,” Cas breathes, reminding him why they started with a blow job to begin with. But the scent of blueberry coffee and dark chocolate makes his head spin, and as he grasps for some semblance of control, Cas continues fucking himself on his cock like a damn porn star, pulling him higher and higher every time he undulates his hips against him.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Cas chants, and Dean smiles through his heavy breaths because he knows Cas is close. (And maybe because even though it’s been years, the sound of his name on Cas’s lips has never lost its impact.) He lifts his upper body so he can get up on his knees, and now with more leverage, he drills into Cas harder than ever. He fucks him with fast, fluid thrusts, pulling out almost entirely before driving back in over and over, his balls slapping against his ass each time. He grits his teeth to hold back his own orgasm, desperately craving Cas’s knot, knowing the faster Cas gets off the faster he can sink down on his alpha’s cock.

“C’mon, alpha,” Dean urges him. “Give it to me, Cas. Let it go. Wanna see you.”

Cas’s teeth close down on his bottom lip - which he knows is a tell - so he glances down to where his alpha’s cock is rutting in a pool of precum against his own washboard stomach every time Dean pounds into him. A strangled sound escapes Cas at the same time his muscles tense, and Dean watches, riveted, as his cock twitches and creamy white explodes from the tip.

Cas lets his legs fall while his cock is still painting his stomach, and Dean takes the opportunity to pull away from his alpha’s pulsing ass before he loses it too. He balances himself on Cas’s strong chest until he’s straddling him, then one hand holds Cas steady and _\- jesus christ -_ he finally feels that thick alpha cock splitting him open as he sinks down fast and hard.

A sound comes out of him as his ass settles on the bowl of Castiel’s hips, some mixture of mind-melting pleasure and relief at being filled the way he’s been craving for the last thirty minutes since Cas woke him up with a blow job, then he leans forward and starts moving. Feeling that fat cock so deep inside him soothes his instincts, and now that he’s got his alpha exactly where he belongs, he can feel his body loosening and his muscles relaxing as he rides Cas in earnest.

“Dean - christ - you - just look at you,” Cas breathes, and Dean smirks as Cas’s hands land on his hips. He keeps Cas’s cock buried nice and deep and gyrates his hips, swiveling them in a slow figure eight with his eyes closed until he finds the perfect angle to make sparks climb up his spine as Cas’s cockhead rubs over that one little spot.

That’s all it takes for him to start sputtering. “F-fuck, I’m c-close.”

Cas’s knot is already swollen from his orgasm, and Dean forces himself down onto it, wanting more, wanting to feel all of his mate stuff him so fucking full the way only Cas can.

“Dean,” Cas groans, and Dean opens his eyes to the sight of Cas flushed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Sweat and humidity is causing his hair to curl at the temples and Dean’s hit with a heavy wave of affection for the man beneath him. “N-no knot. We - we c-can’t.”

Dean grunts low in his throat. “Need it, alpha. Need you. Please, Cas. Gimme your knot, baby.”

“Dean,” Cas warns him.

“Need it so bad,” Dean whispers, tightening his ass cheeks to stimulate what he already has buried inside of him. “Please, alpha.” Cas swallows hard, nods once, and Dean quietly says, “Love you.”

Cas’s expression softens, his blue eyes damn near shining with love, and Dean flashes a grin as he slams down on him and fully impales himself on his knot.

 _“Dean!”_ Cas shouts, and yeah, there’s his alpha’s second orgasm. Cas’s knot pops and ties them together, spurting inside of him hot and thick. As usual, just knowing that Cas is filling him with his alpha seed is enough to make him start shaking with pleasure right before the tension coiled tight in his belly _snaps_ and he comes hot all over Cas’s stomach.

He keeps writhing on Cas’s lap, wringing out every ounce of pleasure he can get, spurred on by the breathy, high-pitched sounds Cas keeps making as he works them both to a third orgasm. Cas’s hands wrap around his waist and he flips them over until they’re face to face, where Cas’s lips catch his in a soft and lingering kiss. They break apart to scent one another, basking in the scent of satisfied and happy _mate,_ Cas’s thumb lazily tracing the curve of his hip bone.

“You know we’re never going to hear the end of this.” Cas isn’t chastising him though; his voice is more teasing and fond than anything.

“Not even sorry,” he responds, giving him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“We agreed _you_ would fuck me so we wouldn’t be late,” Cas reminds him, but he’s nuzzling into his temple and the scent of happiness is thick in the air.

“Don’t even pretend you’re not smug over how I’m a slut for your knot.”

Cas’s lips finally crack into a smile he can’t hide anymore. “Okay, fine. I’m a little smug. But I’m also telling them whose fault this was when they show up here banging on the door.”

“Fine by me,” Dean says easily, feeling comfortable enough to fall back asleep now that he’s been well fucked. “Power nap ‘til they get here?”

Cas turns him over until his back is pressed firmly to his chest. His nose is already back on his scent gland (still his preferred sleeping position) when he says, “I should use this time to grade papers. You’re a terrible influence on me.”

“You’re on vacation, Mr. Milton,” Dean purrs, chuckling when he feels Cas’s knot twitch inside of him. “You deserve a break.”

Cas kisses his mating gland and Dean feels the soft puff of his breath on his neck when he whispers, “I love you, coffee bean.”

“Love you,” Dean says back, sinking almost instantly into a deep sleep.

Amazingly, they’re not woken up by banging on their door the way he thought they would be. Instead, he’s pulled out of sleep when Cas’s knot goes down and everything comes out with it. It’s a sensation he’s familiar enough with that it doesn’t gross him out, but it’s still not a great feeling. He rolls over onto his back and reaches for his phone, surprised to see no messages from Sam or Gabe saying they’re running late. It’s about ten to eleven, so they’re twenty minutes late now.

Cas is already shuffling closer to him, nose searching for his neck, when Dean stops him with a gentle hand to his chest. “They’re not here yet, we got time for a quick shower.”

Cas grunts, which Dean takes as a yes, and he kisses his grumpy alpha’s forehead to get up and start the shower. Ten minutes later, both he and Cas are dressed for the day’s events in sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirts, and are pulling their snow pants on over top when there’s finally a knock on the door and Sam walks in with Gabe, and more importantly, Claire close behind him.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Dean says to Cas, eyeing Sam meaningfully.

“Gimme a break. It’s like, 11:01,” Sam says.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I told them we’d be here at 10:30,” Gabe says, smiling proudly.

Dean frowns. “You dick.”

Cas elbows him gently. “Are you really complaining about those extra thirty minutes?” he asks quietly

Dean can’t help the grin. “Fair point.”

“Just because I can’t smell you yet doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” Claire says, dropping her stuff unceremoniously on the floor. “Stop being gross.”

“Yeah, Cas. Stop being gross,” Dean quips, earning a glare from his alpha but a tiny smile from Claire. "You miss me?" he asks her, grinning playfully.

"Cried myself to sleep last night," Claire lies, but he can see the affection in her eyes. She  _totally_ missed him. Sam snickers at her joke, and he realizes for the first time that nobody has coffee.

"You guys didn't bring Tim Horton's?" he asks.

"Sorry, Gabe went out first thing this morning and brought us some back," Sam tells him.

"Drinking hot chocolate in onesies is the bees knees, right kid?" Gabe prompts, getting a small huff of laughter from Claire.

"How was the rest of your sleepover, blondie?" Dean asks her. "Did Sam braid your hair like that?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “Gee, never heard that joke before.”

“It’s older than you are,” Sam confirms. Dean watches with a small smile on his face when Cas steps towards Claire and wraps her small frame into a tight hug.

“And still comedy gold,” Dean insists distractedly. Then, as Cas steps back and Claire starts to unzip her jacket, he says, “Hey, whaddya think you’re doin?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Claire asks dryly, continuing to take off her coat.

“Well cut it out,” Dean tells her. “You’re a Milton; you're playing.”

“But I can hardly skate!”

He knew that was coming. “Yeah well, neither could Cas when we first met and look at 'em now. You’ll get it.”

“We got you a new pair of hockey skates,” Cas says, pointing to the box in the closet. “Besides, we haven’t played as a family at all yet this year, and it’s a tradition.”

Claire rolls her eyes again, but being reminded that she’s their family softens both her expression and her resolve. “Fine, but the first time one of you lets me fall I quit.”

Dean scoffs. “The way Cas dotes on you, he’ll never let you fall.”

“You’re one to talk!” Sam butts in with. “How many times did you text me last night to check on her?”

“She’s moody,” Dean explains, though his face feels a little warm after being called out like that.

“And you’re just jealous you don’t have your alpha at your beck and call every second of every day anymore,” Claire shoots back, but the teasing tone of her voice lets him know she’s not being mean about it.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I had him just where I wanted him a few times since last night,” Dean grins.

“Dean!” Cas chastises him.

“I think I just threw up a little,” Claire says, toeing off her boots to pull up her snow pants.

“You and me both,” Sam replies.

“Okay, that’s enough of scarring the children,” Gabe says.

“I’m not a kid. I’m thirteen,” Claire insists. "And don't pretend these two are the only gross ones after the love fest I walked in on this morning."

Sam pulls a face and starts to explain, "That is nowhere even  _close_ to the same kind of thing -"

But then Gabe  _loudly_  and suspiciously exclaims, “Well since you two are ready, why don’t you go clear the ice and we’ll escort the thirteen-year-old princess?"

"Wait a second," Dean interjects. "What did you walk in on?"

"How about those Maple Leafs?" Gabe shouts instead, such a terrible attempt at changing the subject that Dean can't help but laugh.

"You know Dean has a memory like an elephant," Cas says quietly to Gabe.

"And I wanna know what you walked in on," Dean demands from Claire. 

Gabe turns to Claire and says, "You keep your mouth shut and I'll make it worth your while."

"Deal," she replies, smiling wide.

"Hey, I could bribe you, too!" Dean points out.

"Not like Gabe," she says, still with a big smile on her face.

That only makes him wonder what else she's been bribed to do and as his mind whirls, Cas asks Claire, "You don't need any help tying your skates?"

“We got it, Cassie,” Gabe says, literally pushing them both down the hallway with a hand on their backs before Dean can even start to say anything else.

Without much choice, he and Cas listen to his suggestion and continue to walk through the house to the backyard with their skates in hand. As soon as they’re out of earshot from Claire, Cas says, “Did you have to bring up our sex life in front of her ten seconds after she came back home?”

“Like she thinks we’re celibate?” he says sarcastically. “Besides, when we talked to Dr. what’s his face about my heat and your rut, he said there was no point hiding that we have a satisfying sex life, that it’s good for her to know there are healthy alpha/omega relationships out there, remember?”

“Even so, she’s thirteen and our daughter; she doesn’t need to hear about the details,” Cas maintains.

“Not like I was giving her a play-by-play,” Dean maintains as he sits on the bench to put on his skates. Cas doesn’t say anything more while Dean laces up his first skate but his jaw is set when he looks over at him, so he checks, “Does it really bother you?”

“I just think it’s unnecessary,” Cas answers.

Dean sighs. “I’ll try to tone it down.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes when Cas leans over to press a kiss to his temple. “Thank you, coffee bean.”

Dean waves him away with, “Yeah, yeah.”

“I have to make sure to lavish attention on you while I can so my beautiful omega doesn’t get jealous when I _dote_ on our daughter,” Cas teases.

“Good,” Dean answers. “Might need somebody to hold my hand while I get my feet under me out there.”

Cas chuckles lightly. “Now there’s an obvious excuse if I ever heard one.”

“S’long as it works, I don’t care if it’s obvious of not,” Dean admits.

Cas straightens up, and Dean’s sure if he wasn’t wearing so many layers he’d be able to smell the change in his scent to go with his body language. “You don’t truly feel neglected by me now that we have Claire, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Dean replies honestly. “Claire’s been with us for almost three years now. I got used to sharing a long time ago.”

“But you don’t like it,” Cas surmises, still way too good at reading between the lines when it comes to him.

Dean gathers his thoughts while he finishes tying up his other skate, trying to make sure he doesn’t say the wrong thing. “I sometimes miss the few years we had when we were attached at the hip whenever we weren’t working or in school, yeah,” Dean confesses quietly. “But I love Claire like she’s my own pup. Hell, to me, she _is_ my pup. I’d die for her without a thought.”

“I know you would,” Cas says, gazing at him with love in his eyes.

“We both wanted to adopt, and having her here, watching her go from refusing to make eye contact with us to hugging you when she got home today... I wouldn’t change the way things are for anything. Plus, I know how important having actual parents is, so I’d never, you know, wanna take that away from her or whatever. Especially since even though she bitches about it, it’s pretty obvious that she loves it when you spoil her.”

“I wonder where she gets that from, little bean,” Cas says meaningfully.

Dean’s smiling proudly when he says, “Might’ve rubbed off on her a little.”

“She couldn’t dream of having a better parent to model herself after.” Cas gets to his feet and tugs Dean up with him, and though there’s a light dusting of snow on the rink, it’s not bad enough that they can’t skate through it. Dean goes to head towards the shed for shovels, but Cas stops him with his hands on his hips instead. “If she grows up to be half the person you are, we will be two of the luckiest parents in the world.”

“Me?” Dean says dismissively. “You’re the perfect mate. Hell, you’re a freakin’ inspiration coming back from all the bullshit you went through the way you have. Got your name cleared, went back to school, landed a teaching job at my old high school, and you’ve been voted best teacher _and_ hottest teacher in the yearbook every year since you started!”

“I doubt Claire will grow up aspiring to be the teacher voted most attractive by students less than half her age,” Cas says dryly.

“Shut up, you knew what I meant.”

Cas smiles that gummy smile that still makes his knees weak and pulls him in until their bodies are flush. “I love you, Dean. I promise I’ll do better to dote on you both.”

Dean flushes but can’t deny it’s nice to hear. “You’re a good alpha for both of us.” He leans in and bares his neck so Cas can get a whiff of his scent. As Cas buries his nose in his favorite spot, he sees Claire walk out the back door, laughing at something Gabe said based on the proud smile on his face. Sam’s hand lands low on Gabe’s back even as he shakes his head in exasperation behind them both. His heart swells at the sight of his family, and it’s easy and completely true when he says, “I’m happy, Cas.”

Cas runs his nose up his throat and places a light kiss on his lips. “As am I, my sweet omega. Most people only ever dream of the happiness you’ve brought to my life.”

His stomach swoops, still overwhelmed with the corny shit Cas says on a regular basis. “Besides,” Dean says, skating backwards and away from Cas before they get an ear full from the peanut gallery, “less than ten years until she moves out and I’ve got you to myself again.”

Cas laughs a little, but Claire shouts, “I heard that!”

“I didn’t move out until I was 23,” Cas tells her after giving Dean’s ass a light swat and a significant look. “You’re welcome here as long as you want.”

“No way. 18 and you’re out on your ass, blondie,” Dean teases, grabbing two shovels from the shed.

“I’m about to be on my ass in three seconds,” she says, glaring at the ice.

“Language,” Cas says sternly, which makes Dean chuckle. “Sam, can you help Dean with shoveling so I can give my clumsy but beautiful daughter a hand?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Gabe asks as Sam skates over. At that exact moment, his phone goes off. “Dammit.”

“Looks like I chose wisely,” Cas says smugly.

Dean tosses Sam a shovel and Sam catches it mid-air, then the two start the familiar dance of methodically clearing the ice surface for a game of shinny.

But then Gabe bursts into laughter. “Hey Samb chop, mommy dearest is trying to sue me again.”

“What’d you do this time?” Claire asks, sounding amused. Dean looks over to see her and Cas facing each other and holding hands, Cas easily keeping her on her feet with his alpha strength even though her ankles are wobbly. He makes a mental note to get some tape to tape her ankles for stability the next time they come out here, but he knows he's too distracted by the warmth in his chest from seeing the two of them together to actually remember.

“She was out of town so I had my people make dicks out of snow on her front lawn,” Gabe replies. Dean and Claire both laugh, and Gabe adds, “And the side yard, and the backyard, and at the head office of her gas company.”

“How do you continue to come up with these juvenile prank ideas?” Cas asks “It’s almost been ten years of you torturing her with these kinds of things.”

“Sam actually came up with this one,” Gabe announces.

“Thatta boy, Sammy. Never been more proud," Dean announces.

“That’s hilarious,” Claire giggles, squealing a little as she loses her balance. Cas keeps her up though, and Dean can just hear his low voice repeating how great she’s doing to reassure her. “I love that even though you guys couldn’t make her pay legally, you’re still making her life a living hell for what she did to Cas.”

“Thankfully Gabe’s an evil genius and never leaves any evidence he was involved, so even though we know she knows he did it since she keeps trying to sue him, I just keep beating her and that smarmy dick Ketch in court,” Sam says smugly. “Which reminds me, did I tell you he was basically bald the last time I saw him?”

“Really?” Cas snickers.

“Yeah, he had a pretty terrible comb-over.”

“Sam makes sure to deep condition his hair before every court day now just to rub it in,” Gabe quips.

“Who knew that mop on your head would come in handy someday,” Dean jokes. “Still hate that you couldn’t get him disbarred, though,” he says more seriously.

“He messed up. It doesn’t mean it was necessarily malicious,” Sam says.

Dean aims a significant look in his direction, and Sam shrugs. Knowing they already explored all of the possibilities there, Dean lets it go even though it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Now finished with clearing the ice, they both move in tandem to put the shovels away and start grabbing sticks and a few pucks from the shed.

Sam grins and catches Dean’s eye as he skates backwards, sliding the puck back and forth in front of him. “I’m not gonna be able to out-deke myself, ya know.”

“Oh it’s on, Samantha,” Dean replies, and he takes off after him at full speed towards the net, watching as Cas steers Claire out of the way so they have the whole space.

Instead of competing right off the bat, they do a few laps and start passing the puck between the two of them, and Cas, Claire, and Gabe once they all get sticks. With the help of the hockey stick stabilizing her, Claire’s able to skate slowly on her own, and Dean makes sure to skate literal circles around her just to tease her. Of course, Sam passes him the puck when he’s showing off for Cas and isn’t paying attention, which sends it sliding down to the other end of the rink. Sam makes a move for it, but Dean’s closer, so he digs his skates into the ice and speeds after it, really pushing himself into a fast skate now that he’s got an excuse to beat his long-legged brother in a race.

He’s only a few strides away when all of the sudden blueberry coffee hits his senses, and he’s plowed into from behind from Cas. Their snow clothes and Cas's strong arms break their fall, but they still go down hard for a couple of forty year olds. Dean lands on his back in a heap of tangled limbs and snow, and before he can even catch his breath to bitch about it, he’s got Cas’s mouth latched onto his mating gland.

Heat races through his veins, and he whimpers, “Alpha.”

Through the haze of lust in his brain, he hears Gabe say something like, “Here we go again.”

“Every time,” Sam complains loudly.

“Is it safe to look?” Claire wonders.

Apparently satisfied enough to break the seal of his lips on Dean’s skin, Cas pants, “Caught you.”

Now able to actually think, he laughs with fond exasperation. “Every time, Cas, really?”

“You ran!” Cas defends.

“I was racing Sam!”

“I still caught you,” Cas maintains.

“Guess it worked for you the first time,” Dean teases, patting his cheek lovingly. “Still such a strong alpha, even though you’re practically ancient now.” He lowers his voice and adds, “Now let me up. You won’t be able to claim your omega prize later if my ass freezes to the ice.”

Cas groans to let him know the _last_ thing he wants is to get up, but moves off of him to get to his feet, offering a hand to help Dean up and catching his lips in a quick kiss. “You are going to be the death of me, coffee bean.”

“What a way to go though,” Dean quips, and with the familiar scent of his mate in his nostrils, he and Cas skate over to the rest of their family hand-in-hand... only to see them all standing there bent over at the waist, making the most disgusting fake puking sounds he's ever heard.

He and Cas both laugh, not because the joke is actually funny, but because the five of them together and happy is still enough to make everything a little bit brighter even ten years later.

And he knows it always will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it! Another story done! Thank you so much to all of you for following along as I posted, and especially to my betas Eliza and Brianna. I never could have finished this fic without them. 
> 
> If you’re still wondering about Sam and Gabe, my idea for Sam while writing this fic is that he’s asexual, but he and Gabe still fall in love and end up together. (Claire walked in on them sleeping but completely wrapped up in one another and Gabriel didn't want to be caught being so soft and loving, which is why he bribed her to keep quiet!) 
> 
> If you’re feeling a little bummed out over another story ending, have no fear! I have a brand-new story posting in full on Friday for the Tropefest and it’s a high school AU! Make sure to subscribe to me so you don’t miss it!
> 
> And lastly, if you don’t already, feel free to follow me on my personal Twitter account [here](https://twitter.com/tricia_16__) or my fanfic account [here,](https://twitter.com/tricia_16fanfic) where I often talk about my stories, ask for input, and post snippets of upcoming stories/chapters. I LOVE getting to know the people who read my stuff, so please don't be shy!
> 
> Thanks for being the best readers ever <3


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